


we have the time

by scoutshonour



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Multi, Supernatural Elements, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-01-12 01:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 124,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18435773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scoutshonour/pseuds/scoutshonour
Summary: While trying to find Barb and Will, Nancy and Jonathan are turned into vampires. Government officials swarm Hawkins and they have no choice but to leave, spending the next thirty-something years with an annoying conspiracist to stay safe and in control.They don’t plan on ever going back to Hawkins until Joyce has a small accident. They figure enough time has passed for them to return, if only for a few days, but then they meet Steve, and everything changes.(or: vampire!jancy and human!steve au)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this includes non-graphic violence and descriptions of blood that will potentially become more descriptive in later chapters. see ya at the end of this chapter for more!

 

In 1983, they didn't know what they were getting into.

Will Byers disappeared on a sunny, warm day in October.

Barb Holland disappeared two days later.

It happened too quickly. Much later would what happened process, but in those handful of days, all that mattered was finding out what happened.

It's not like they knowingly walked into death. Danger and risk, sure. But when someone you love disappears and the world cares for five minutes, what options do you have?

You walk into the darkness, even if you have no idea what’s on the other side—even for the slight chance that you’ll find your person.

Jonathan and Nancy made a wordless promise to each other when they sliced each other’s palms, drawing in what they figured were bloodthirsty monsters.

Well. They weren't wrong.

Nearly four decades later, they're technically alive. But they're still seventeen.

.

.

.

Chief Hopper knew a guy. Someone that would keep them safe, far out of Hawkins where government officials and a team of scientists were snooping through, “curious” about the recent disappearances. This guy would help them transition with ease, make sure they wouldn't become monsters like the ones that turned them, who Nancy and Jonathan subsequently killed.

How else do you respond at the sight of your best friend's severed head, learning she was turned and killed hours ago, and that no one knows where your little brother went, that maybe no one would?

Anyway, they would have died. She repeats the sentiment to Jonathan about a million times. He doesn’t complain about it. Not once.

“It’s not safe here,” Hopper says with a pained expression. “I know it’s not the best option, but—”

“Thank you, Jim.” Joyce looks at Hopper briefly, her voice thick with appreciation. She continues cradling Jonathan’s head as their kitchen light flicker over their heads. “It’s our safest bet, so thank you. Nancy, are you … I mean, is this okay?”

Nancy doesn’t think about the uneasy feeling she’s had in her chest for the past two days, where her heart should be pounding. She doesn’t think about Barb. She doesn’t think about how _hungry_ she is. She forces herself to look at Jonathan, nodding like she can handle this. “The safest bet, right?”

“I’m so sorry Nancy,” Jonathan says, wiping his eyes.

She raises her palm, scar-side up. “Don’t do that. We went in together. None of us knew. I’m in, okay? When do we leave?”

“Tonight if that’s alright. I can drive you there.”

 _It’s not,_ she almost says. She needs more time to say goodbye to her family, but almost immediately the decision comes to her mind: she won’t. She can’t. She refuses to put them in danger, to explain this fucking tragedy to them, to see their faces fall when she tells them. No one could come after them if they didn’t know anything. This was the best way to protect them, wasn't it? This was the safest option. This was the easiest option. This was the only option.

It would make sense, wouldn’t it? Her running away after her best friend’s disappearance. They would search for her, but they would never find her.

On the note she leaves later that night, she makes sure to include that she’ll be okay, that she’s fine, that she’s sorry.

And that she’s not alone.

.

.

.

The first night in Murray's house is terrible.

The lights flicker, the floorboards creak, and his house smells so much like _blood._ She's not sure if she's more grossed out by that or by the fact that she can tell.

“Why do you have blood in your house?” She asks. Maybe she should thank him first, give him a ‘thanks for letting us stay with you and helping us not kill people’ fruit-basket or something.

“For you guys, silly.”

Jonathan turns even paler. “How did you get it?”

“Don't worry about it,” he dismisses. "Stop giving me that look, I didn't kill anyone for it. I know a guy.”

“Did _he_ kill people?” Nancy narrows her eyes.

“No. You're both so judgemental.”

After showering and scrubbing her skin raw, she lays in her new bedroom. The walls are grey and have _multiple_ holes. She's ninety percent sure she heard a mouse, but was too tired to care.

She slides two fingers underneath her ear, searching for her pulse. She knows it's useless. She does it anyway and is still hit with disappointment when there's only silence.

She can't fall asleep. Murray's holed up in his basement, doing God knows what. There's only one person she can talk to, and he’s honestly the only one she would want to talk to about all of this.

Nancy slides off her bed and marches towards her door. She reaches for the doorknob, letting out a startled gasp when it's pulled from the other side.

Jonathan stands in front of her, his eyes wide, chin trembling. “I thought your footsteps were Murray's.”

“Me too.” She swallows. “Couldn't sleep?”

“Nope. You too?”

“Yup.” She tugs on his hand, feeling his scar press against hers. There’s no need getting flustered in front of him. They had their first _real_ taste of blood together (the vampires they killed did not count), drinking consciously from Murray’s heart-shaped mugs, they went looking for Will and Barb together, they _died_ together. It’s ridiculous that she can’t meet his eyes, even after she releases his hand. “Sit with me.”

They lay down together, backs against the fluffy, white comforter. “You're freezing,” he murmurs.

“You're not. I don't understand how, but you're like a furnace.”

“Weird. Also weird? I figured our scars would have healed, but they haven’t.”

Nancy raises her palm and inspects her scar under a flickering light bulb. “Me too. I'm kind of glad it didn't.”

He traces his finger over her scar. His touch is light and hesitant, but she’s still disappointed when he pulls his hand away. “Do you regret it?”

“Not now. I think I will, further down the line, but I know what happened to her. It hurts, but I mean it's something.” Nancy winces. "Sorry, that wasn't—”

“No, it's okay. I just—I don't think I'd regret it if I at least know what happened to him or where he is. He was only _twelve_ , Nancy,” he croaks, his voice cracking.

“You're only seventeen,” she tells him softly. She brushes her thumb against his palm.

“I'll only ever _be_ seventeen.”

“I don't regret it,” she says decisively. “We're going to find out what happened, okay? We have the time, anyway.”

This makes him chuckle. “I guess we do.”

She shifts so her head is on his chest, burrowing closer when he wraps his arm around her shoulder. She’s glad she can’t see his face. “We're in this together.”

“In this together,” Jonathan repeats. “I like the sound of that.”

Nancy smiles. It quickly falls off her face when she scrunches her nose. “Is he—God, he _knows_ we can hear him right?”

Jonathan groans, plucking his fingers into his ears.

“That's not going to work, what the hell are you—”

“You have a better idea?”

She purses her lips before sticking her head underneath the pillows, holding them tightly.

“Genius idea,” he laughs.

Murray thankfully stops a few seconds later. “Did that work for you?” Jonathan asks dryly, the corners of his mouth raising.

“Perfectly, thanks,” Nancy says, laughing despite where she is, what she is, and what's happened. Maybe, just maybe, this can work.

.

.

.

Nancy thinks about her mom a lot, especially in the beginning.

It's the worst when Jonathan's calling his. It doesn't matter where in Murray's old, decrepit house she is. In the shower, kitchen, backyard, she'll still hear Joyce's warm voice and Jonathan's quiet sobbing.

“It's not too late,” he'll always tell her. She doesn't know how he knows her this well. It's kind of eerie, because she knows it's not a vampire thing, but a Jonathan thing.

This time, he's approached her while she's in the backyard, watering Murray's geraniums. “You don't have to tell her anything. Just give her a call or something. She could think you're dead—”

“I _am_ dead. She wouldn't—I couldn't—it's different with you, okay? She's fine without me. She's got two perfect kids. Well, she's got Mike and a perfect kid,” she says fondly. “It would kill her.”

Jonathan smiles sadly, hooking their pinkies. “Like I said, it would never be too late.”

She nods and politely asks him to tell her about his mother’s phone-call. When he’s halfway through recounting her promotion at work, she properly interlocks their fingers.

.

.

.

It takes a few years for it to really sink in.

The first time they fed directly from someone Jonathan was an absolute wreck. It's not like she hadn't felt sick or that she didn't ache with the official death of her human life. It was only until the image of a younger him, sobbing after being forced to kill a bunny was stuck in her mind once more, did it really get to her. She tried consoling him, listing off every terrible thing this man did, reminding him they weren't killing him, just stealing his blood.

But he just needed to cry. She sat with him, in Murray's basement, stroking his hair as he wept. They still had another six hours to get him back to his house before the drugs wore off.

“I'm sorry,” he kept saying into her shoulder. “It just—it just _hurts_ —”

“I know. It's okay. You don't have to apologize. You know I can do this alone, right?”

“No, no, we're—we're in this together, right?”

She thought of the scars on their palms that remained even after they were turned. “Yes, we are.”

Nancy got used to it. It took six months for Jonathan to stop crying. His eyes got a little misty, but he would swallow, and that would be that. Really, they weren't doing anything wrong. They never killed nor did they leave them with wounds unattended, and over two years, Murray gradually wired them into accepting animal blood.

They were _helping_ people.

It turned out that vampires weren't the only supernatural beings roaming this planet. They weren't the only ones going out for blood.

They'd leave notes on Murray's counter. They'd only ever be gone for a few days. Sometimes he would tell them about a spotting out in Atlanta or Austin. Mostly, she did her digging. She would never ask Jonathan to go with her. He would always join her on his own accord.

“Are you sure?” She would ask each time.

“Don't be ridiculous,” he would say gently.

If they had these powers, they were going to do something about it. If they could never return to Hawkins, never live past seventeen, never live _period,_ then they would do this.

“We're going to have to pay extra for the mess.”

“Well, I'm _sorry_ about the black sludge in my hair. I can cut it all off so next time we won't have to pay an extra twenty dollars for getting shapeshifter blood all over us.”

Jonathan smiles. He reaches out and she falters, only for him to wipe some black sludge off her nose. “The shower's going to get even grosser because of you.”

“How am I always the one covered in fucking gunk?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe because you're always the one running into danger?”

“I saved your ass. That thing was coming for you.”

“I would've been fine, remember?” He taps his chest. “Not like that thing knew what we are.”

“Like I would've let anything happen to you,” she says, her voice too soft for it to be played off as a joke.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. His thumb slides over her cheek so _easily_ and _casually_ that she wonders if he knows how much she needs it.

She grins, instinctively leaning into his touch. “You would've been fine, remember?”

“Yeah, but—”

Nancy frowns as Jonathan goes quiet, his gaze slipping away from her to something behind her. She turns around, and too late does she realize the door is open.

An elderly woman gawks at them, specifically Nancy, who's dripping in black sludge from head to toe.

“We had a paint-fight,” she says through a tight smile. A black ball of gunk from her hair hits the floor with a loud _thump._ “It was old paint.”

They're snickering as Jonathan hastily shuts the door with a polite smile. “Jesus,” Nancy laughs, “We're leaving first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, hey, I wanted to give you this before we went, like, hunting, but I forgot.”

She furrows her eyebrows, watching him rummage through his duffel bag and pull out a messily-wrapped gift. It takes her a few seconds to realize what's different about the wrapping paper. It's covered in developed photographs, some of her from the past year and a half. The pictures bring her back: to their first road-trip searching for a Bigfoot-like monster (it wasn't that big, only six feet), to the time she was covered in the monster's _yellow_ blood and Jonathan laughed until he cried, to the day she insisted they do something normal so Jonathan made them lunch and they went out to feed the ducks by a pond near Murray's house and had a picnic. Others are her favourite pictures taken by Jonathan. Like the garden in Murray's backyard that Nancy's taken over, or her necklace with ballerina slippers sitting on her dresser, glimmering in the sunlight.

She stares at it intently, stunned into silence.

“I didn't forget, if that's what you thought,” he says, his cheeks turning crimson. She would tease him about being a vampire who still blushes if her still heart wasn't so goddamn full. “Happy nineteenth, Nancy.”

Oh. How did she forget? How has it already been two years, how—

Her hands tremble as she accepts his gift, but as soon as they press against the glossy pictures he took the time to develop for her, they're steady. “You didn't have to.”

“I know.”

“How do I unwrap this?”

“You have to take each picture off. Sorry, there's a—”

“Don't you dare apologize for this. C'mon.” She drags him towards the bed, knowing she should shower first, but not caring. They go through each picture and take their time with it. She asks him why she chose them and listens to him go on and on, talking more than she's ever heard him. In another life, he would've been a phenomenal photographer. In another life, she would've been nineteen and _been nineteen._

He got her a new copy of Pride & Prejudice. She brought her copy on a trip four months ago, accidentally dropping it into the motel's pool as they sat, knee to knee, reading with their feet dipped in. She was inconsolable and explained, after she stopped crying, that Barb gave it to her for her fourteenth birthday.

“Oh, Jonathan,” she says, flinging her arms around him. He lets out a startled noise before his arms wrap around her. She doesn't understand how he's so warm. She's been freezing cold for the past two years. She convinces herself that's why she pulls him close and doesn't let go for some time.

On the drive back, they're quiet. He pops in another one of his mixtapes and she goes for a re-read. It's bright out. She can't _feel_ the sunlight anymore, but she remembers the feeling and holds onto it as Jonathan hums next to her.

She impulsively reaches over and raises the volume.

“I thought you considered my music to be pretentious.”

She does, but instead she says, “I like this song.” Really, she just wanted to hear him sing.

She could live like this, she tells herself. This wouldn't be the worst way to spend eternity. Saving lives, making the world safer, next to him. It won't be enough, but it's more than Barb had. She can't—she _won't—_ complain while knowing her best friend was killed by something just like her.

 

.

.

.

In 1987, they kill someone for the first time.

It was an accident. A string of murders a town over, the details nearly the exact same as Hawkins.

It was an accident. It was a small town and easy to figure out what happened. A newly-turned vampire with no one to help them. They were sloppy, the cops were stupid, and townspeople were oblivious.

It was an accident. Nancy and Jonathan agreed that they could help this person. They'd had a few years of complete control, but only because they had Murray. Murray, who would always be a little odd and annoying and extremely fucking weird, but still helped them.

It was an accident. Nancy doesn't know how many times she's told Jonathan this as his sobs only get heavier and heavier.

“I didn't mean for her to die, but—but she was coming at you, and I couldn't let you—Nancy, I just—”

She should keep digging. She's burned the body and now all that's left is to bury her remains. They could get caught, they need to keep moving, they need to keep going.

But he's crumpling right in front of her eyes and she can't ignore his sobbing, nor can she comfort him with all this space between them.

Ash on her fingertips, she cups his face and forces him to look at her. “Thank you. You saved me. You are _not_ a monster, Jonathan. I don't know how many times you need to hear it to believe it, but we have the time.”

“How are you so—so _okay_ with everything? You're just—you're so together, I don't get it, I don't understand how you're this—” She wipes his face as his hands gesture, his facing screwing up. "Strong, all the time.”

“I just think of Barb. She's dead, and I mean, we are too, but we're not, you know? I don't—I don't deserve to feel bad when she can't feel anything.”

“You can feel whatever you want, you know that, don't—”

“It gets me through it, okay? It does. It's not the healthiest of things, but it works. You just need to find your thing. Think of—think of him.”

She watches his face, illuminated by the moonlight. Watches it become sullen and gaunt, the tiredness in his eyes deepening, before he smiles, just barely. “It's stupid, but I still think he's out there.”

“It's _not_ stupid. You never know. Sometimes I wonder...I mean, maybe we weren't the only ones who were turned and left Hawkins because of it,” she says it genuinely, not just for the hope to flicker in Jonathan's eyes and brighten his face even though that's why she continues. “They did say, right before we killed them, that they didn't see him die, that they attacked him and he escaped. Don't lose hope. Even if it's all you have. Especially if it’s all you have.”

“I have you, too,” he says quietly, dropping his forehead against hers.

Nancy closes her eyes. She pretends that she isn't hiding the body of a young vampire who killed four people. She pretends that she's just with a boy with warm hands and a quiet smile, and they're both breathing, and they're both twenty years-old.

A few minutes later, Nancy, unable to meet his eyes, reluctantly steps back and remind him that they aren't finished. She tells him that he doesn't need to help. He helps anyway, silently sobbing. He keeps apologizing. Nancy doesn't reply, because she knows it's not her he's saying sorry to.

.

.

.

“Are you two not going to tell me what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Nancy snaps, hyper-aware of how Jonathan keeps shaking. “Can you drop it?”

“Lies, lies, lies, I see right through you. C'mon, what's the deal, just tell—”

“Don't you have a case to work on? Teens to not bother?” She glowers at Murray, snatching the box of cereal away from him.

“You two haven't been teens for years,” Murray reminds her. He looks at Jonathan, who's staring at the bowl of fruit on the dining table, then back to Nancy who's been glaring at him the entire morning. “Fine. I'll leave you be. Even though I shouldn't, because any shit you two pull could always get back to me, and—”

“We're not amateurs.”

“No, you're just impulsive, murderous immortals.”

It's just banter, but they both flinch anyway. He either doesn't notice or knows they can't talk about it, not yet. He takes his mug of coffee and wanders upstairs.

Nancy sighs. She sits next to Jonathan, their feet brushing underneath the table.

“He's such an asshole.”

“He got us blood so we wouldn't hurt anyone, he gave us a place to stay, he—”

“Is an asshole.”

“I know, but—but yeah, that's fair.”

“You're going to be okay,” she blurts out. She squeezes his hand before thinking better of it. “You will.”

Jonathan nods, his voice trembling as he says, “I know. I can't stop thinking about it, about her blood on my hands, about how she didn't have _anyone_ to help her, but,” he says, tilting his face up to look at her, “Then I tell myself that you're still here. So of course I'll be okay.”

They share a smile. They stay like that, sipping coffee, holding hands, talking about nothing and everything, for some time.

.

.

.

They are okay for awhile.

They fall into a nice pattern. It's enough to fill the years, it's enough to fill a lifetime, to fill several.

Seven years have passed when Murray decides to move. “It's getting suspicious now. The two of you haven't aged and people will notice.”

Neither of them know how to voice their thanks. Murray's still bizarre and Nancy still doesn't like him, but she's fond of him. She's not sentimental so she buys him a coffee maker.

He laughs. “Aw, I knew you liked me.”

“I don't. It was Jonathan's idea.”

“It wasn't,” Jonathan says. Nancy elbows him, her glare faltering when he laughs.

Joyce visits them. Nancy watches, awkward and jealous, as Joyce wraps her arms around her son and holds him. She doesn't expect to be pulled into a hug moments later. She's always thought a part of Joyce resented her. _She_ was the one who pulled Jonathan into this mess, who convinced Jonathan that something was up.

She basically stole her son from her, from his own life.

But it's been years since she's seen her mother, years since she's been held like that. It's easy to melt into her arms.

“I'll visit you both at least once a month.”

“I'll call you everyday,” Jonathan promises. 

“Be safe.”

Nancy chuckles, brushing her hand against Jonathan's arm. “Don't worry, Mrs. Byers. I've got him,” she teases.

“I know you do,” Joyce says. She smiles. “I want you to also stay safe, Nancy.”

Before she can open her mouth, Jonathan says, “I've got her.”

She rolls her eyes, but secretly feels the safest she's ever been.

.

.

.

It happens when Murray goes away for a week because of a case.

Nancy tries falling asleep. She doesn't need it, probably, but every night she still manages to get a few hours. This night's different. She's had nightmares, sure, but this isn't it.

She just can't fall asleep.

She slips into Jonathan's room, nearly jumping when he says, eyes still shut, “You okay?”

“I thought you were asleep!”

He rubs his eyes, grinning. “Your footsteps are loud.”

She rolls her eyes. “Move over.” She crawls next to him, underneath his thick comforter. “I can't sleep.”

“Me neither.”

“You were _just_ sleeping.”

“Well, suddenly I can't go to sleep.”

Nancy laughs. She lightly kicks him. “How coincidental. Tell me a story.”

They go back and forth. She listens to how Will was so good at hide and seek that they couldn't find him for _hours_ only for him to be hiding in the laundry bin underneath a pile of dirty clothes. She tells him how she was Mike's first word, even if he pronounced her name as _Noncy._ She likes talking about their past lives as much as it stings. It keeps it alive, somehow, even if it does make her think about Mike and Holly. She's convinced herself it's better if they don't know. She doesn't want to hurt them nor does she want them to know that she's _this._

Sunlight slips in sooner than they realize.

"Shit, it's already six in the morning,” he says, squinting as he looks out the window. His eyebrows knit together, he reeks of morning breath, and his hair is all over the place.

And Nancy can't refrain from braving the space between them. Kissing him is easy. She doesn't understand how she hasn't done it before.

“Are you—are you _sure—”_

“I kissed you,” she mumbles against his mouth, smiling uncontrollably. She pushes his hair out of his face. They’ve been walking towards this point for years now, so his look of confusion bewilders her, as if she looks at anyone the way she looks at him. “I know what I want.”

He swallows. “I don't want you to feel like you have to. Like you're stuck with me or something. I just want to make sure.”

“This is a choice,” she says firmly. “I know we have a lot of time, so there's no rush, but I just—I want every minute of it.”

“That's sweet.” His smile is small, yet it brightens his face. She knows how he looks at her too.

"Shut up.”

“Okay,” he says, and kisses her.

It's exhilarating. She knew sex would feel good, has thought about it, especially with Jonathan after so long of being with him, just not _with him,_ but she could've never anticipated this. Maybe it’s a mix of their vampirism and finally being with him after years of circling their feelings. Either way, it’s _unbelievable_.

“Again?” She asks him, much later.

He raises an eyebrow, underneath her, close but not close enough. “Are you that horny?”

“Is that a no?”

“Of course not!”

Nancy laughs at his earnestness, kissing him again, determined that she could do this forever.

Fifteen minutes later, they break the bed.

Murray's all too delightful about this when they tell him. She doesn't murder him as much as she wants to.

.

.

.

They've been going off animal blood and stolen blood bags for a few years now when Nancy brings it up.

“You want _my_ blood?”

“You don’t have to, of course, but it's supposed to feel good,” she says casually, shrugging as she sinks onto his lap.

He grins, looking up at her like he's in a daze. His hands rest on her waist. “For who?”

“For both of us. I won't lose control and if I do, you need to—”

“I'm not hurting you.”

“Like you could ever hurt me,” Nancy says, half-joking, half-serious. It's not that he isn't strong. He is. It’s just that if the situation called for it and he _needed_ to restrain her, it wouldn’t be the same as someone else doing it. It wouldn’t hurt as much. She doesn’t believe in soulmates or fate, but sometimes, it’s all so _easy_ with him, so these things just make sense. Like algebra. Gravity. Jonathan being unable to hurt her. “Are you in?”

He smiles. “I'm in.”

It's richer than human blood, infinitely times better than animal blood. She braces one hand on the other side of his neck, the other curled at the back of his head, and rocks steadily against him.

A minute later, after he’s made quiet noises she has to strain to hear, she pulls away, licking his blood off her teeth. “You okay?”

"'M great.” He smiles, giving her sight of his teeth.

She bites back a grin. “Your fangs.”

He gives her a sheepish look and clenches his jaw to get rid of his fangs. “Your eyes,” he says, causing her to blink hard to drain the red. “You said you wouldn't lose control.”

“If I haven't hurt you that means I haven't lost control. Have I?”

“No.” Jonathan scratches the back of his neck, ducking his head.

“You wanna try?”

“I just—” He leans forward and captures her mouth into a kiss. He sucks on her lower lip to get all the blood off her. “Huh.”

“You weirdo,” she hums. She darts forward to kiss him again.

.

.

.

In 1986, Murray comes home with a bullet lodged in his chest.

“Did you hear that?” Jonathan sits upright, tapping Nancy's arm.

She groans. “No, I don't—” She smells it before she hears Murray’s heavy, uncoordinated footsteps, his frantic heartbeat. “Fuck.” They speed downstairs and stand by Murray's side in an instant.

“What the hell happened to you!?” Nancy cries, she and Jonathan helping him limp towards the living room.

“I got a lead, got a burger, then, y'know, got shot.” He watches a heavy drop of his blood hit the wooden floor and scowls. “You guys will clean that, right?”

Nancy doesn’t know if she’s relieved or disappointed that he’s still alive. “Why aren't you at a hospital?”

“Why would I need to be?”

Jonathan and Nancy look at each other. “You're a human,” Jonathan says slowly, "...right?”

“You two could smell it if I wasn't, remember? Healthcare is a joke, but why would I need it when I have you two?”

They sprawl him over the couch, watching him shift uncomfortably. “What?”

“What the actual fuck are you talking about!?” Nancy hisses.

“Give me your blood.”

Jonathan rubs his temple. “ _Why?_ ”

“Because...it'll heal me. Haven't I told you this?”

They share another look, one mixed with bewilderment and annoyance. “No, on the contrary, you haven't!” Something horrifying occurs to Nancy. “What else have you not told us?”

“That's it!” Murray insists, scowling as he watches his blood soak through his shirt. “Are you two going to save me, you know, the person who taught you how to control your murderous instincts, who gave you shelter, who—”

“Promise us that's it,” Nancy says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“That's _it._ Now, which one of you are giving me your blood?”

She wrinkles her nose, immediately stepping back.

Jonathan sighs. He sinks his teeth into his wrist before shoving it in front of Murray’s face “Let’s get this over with.”

Nancy fights back a laugh. _Thank you,_ she mouths.

.

.

.

She caves in at twenty-four. It's her mom's birthday. She doesn't even realize she's calling the landline until it starts ringing.

“Hello?”

Nancy clutches the phone tighter, swallowing. Her lips feel glued together.

“Is anyone there?”

She nearly sobs. Karen sounds exactly the same. She probably doesn't look it. Joyce has visited them plenty of times, so Nancy's seen what grief does to a mother.

“Nancy? Nancy, is that you?”

“Happy birthday, mom.”

Karen lets out a loud, piercing sob. “What _happened,_ why did you leave, Nancy, please—”

“I can't tell you. I'm sorry, but—I just can't. You can't tell anyone, okay? I just—I needed to hear your voice, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called—”

“Don't you _dare_ hang up on me. Please, Nancy, please.”

Her hand shakes, but she only squeezes the landline tighter. “Okay. I won’t hang up. I can’t tell you what happened, but—”

“Are you safe?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not alone?”

“No.”

“Then I’m okay. We’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” she says, and for the first time, she believes it.

.

.

.

It's kind of easy to forget that they're murderers.

Over the years, they've had to kill, more and more. Nancy's done it more than him; if something or someone comes after her or Jonathan, or if they simply have to to save a town from something unstoppable and hungry.

They've done good, too. They volunteer at the local hospital in between shifts since their blood is healing, Nancy works at the local library, and Jonathan at a bakery, part-time.

Sometimes it feels like they're frauds. Like this isn't the life they deserve, something so domestic and simple. But then there's news about repeated “animal attacks" a few states over or Murray tells them there's a werewolf attacking people in California, and they're off.

It's difficult to forget that they're never growing up.

Murray's hair starts greying and falling out. He starts getting wrinkles.

Jonathan gets more worried about his mother. “You're exercising, right, your heart isn't bad, but you can't let it get there,” he'll fuss over the phone.

“I'm the one who's supposed to be worrying about you, right?” she'll tease softly, before reassuring him that _yes,_ she's taking her medication, and _yes,_ she takes a twenty-minutes jog every afternoon.

It kind of hurts to hear about Holly and Mike from her mother. Holly's almost sixteen, and Mike's been older than her for years, but still.

“They're okay, right?”

“They could be better, if you just talked—”

“Mom,” she begs, “Please. Holly doesn't even remember me, and Mike and I were never that close.”

“Just let me see you then. Nancy, I'm not getting any younger, and—”

“Mom!”

“If something happens, you'll never know. You don't want to tell me what happened, fine. But you're _my_ child.”

“Promise me you'll ask no questions when you see me,” Nancy relents. The idea of seeing her mother’s smile after years of only seeing it in her memories, of being held in her arms, of her even scolding Nancy for the way she did her hair instantly excites her. “Mom, promise.”

“Promise.”

They agree to meet that weekend. Karen’s okay with driving a few hours out of Hawkins. Nancy gives her mother her address and hopes she hasn't made a mistake.

"She loves you,” Jonathan says, rubbing her back when she can’t stop trembling. “That won't change.”

"She's going to freak out. She's going to ask questions that I can't answer.”

“Hey, look at me,” he says softly. He kisses her forehead. “It's going to work out.”

When the doorbell rings, Nancy wants to bolt. She wants to run out into the backyard, hop over the fence, and sprint for hours. But then she hears her mother’s anxious heartbeat and smells a bouquet of lilacs. She could never forgive herself if she left her mother for a second time.

She trudges towards the front door and swings it open before she can overthink it. “Don’t say anything.” She’s already tearing up when she meets her mother’s eyes.

The bouquet drops to the ground. Karen stares, her mouth hung open with no words pouring out. “Nancy, I don’t understand.”

She smiles weakly, bending down to grab the bouquet. “Neither do I. Come in.”

Murray’s not home because she would rather he not meet her mother. Jonathan brings them tea, further confusing her mom. “Your mother knows, Jonathan?”

“Yes, Mrs. Wheeler.”

“Good. Poor woman’s lost enough. Do you need money, Nancy? I can send you—”

“No, we don’t. Thank you for the offer. We work part-time and the man we live with provides enough money. We don’t hurt people who don’t deserve it. We’re going to look like this forever. Okay?”

To Karen’s credit, she doesn’t drop the mug of tea. “Okay,” she says, forcing a smile that relieves Nancy nonetheless. “I brought pictures of Holly and Mike.”

.

.

.

The years pass. They move twice more, each time further away from Hawkins. Joyce and Karen visit and have visited a few times together. They’ve become friends and Nancy and Jonathan are deeply grateful they each have someone.

Murray keeps them safe. He sends them out of town sometimes for a few days at a time, only telling them it’s for their safety, and they don’t question him, because thirty-six years pass without anyone coming for them.

They fight monsters. They build a good and steady love. Their lives are quiet, in a strange, peaceful way.

The phone-call changes everything.

Nancy's in the shower while Jonathan patiently helps Murray into bed because his old, ancient-ass refuses to use his cane. When she steps out, she finds Jonathan sitting on the edge of their bed, his face buried in his hands.

Her face crumbles. “What happened?” She rushes to his side, prying his hands away from his face to reveal the tears rolling down his face.

“My mom called. She broke her hip.”

The next morning, Nancy paces back and forth in front of Murray while two duffel bags sit by the front door. “You need to take your medications, use your _goddamn_ cane, okay, and if you're hungry, well, you can make your own food, we've bought a months' worth of groceries. We don't know how long we'll be gone, but if something happens, I can come out, but something better not happen, since you'll be using your fucking cane, right?”

“Right,” Murray says, smiling. “I'll be fine. Don't worry about me.”

“I wasn't—y'know what, maybe don't use your cane.”

“I wish your mom well, Jonathan. She's strong.”

"She is,” he says, a far-away look in his eyes. “Please use your cane. Nancy and I will both be upset.”

“No, I won't.”

.

.

.

It's just a broken hip, but she knows why he's so upset.

It starts with a small accident and then it keeps going. She's getting older, closer and closer to something they'll never reach. It doesn't help that there's a good chance that she won't live to find out what happened to her youngest son.

“You okay?” Nancy glances over at him, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel.

Jonathan looks startled. “Yeah. I'm just worried. Plus, someone could recognize us...”

“Don't worry. No one's looking for the girl who ran away and the boy sent out of town by his mother. We'll go out at night and stay in during the day if we have to. Be stereotypical vampires.”

This gets a smile out of him. “Thank you for coming,” he says softly. He rests his hand on her knee.

She refrains from humming when his thumb strokes the bare skin peeking out from underneath her skirt. “Where else would I be?” She suddenly stops the car.

“Nancy, what—" He makes a muffled noise against her as she kisses him stupid, pressing a hand against his chest. He kisses her back and tangles his fingers in her hair.

She pulls back to rest her forehead against his. “It's been so many years and yet,” she murmurs, “Your still get all starry-eyed whenever I kiss you.”

“You can't make fun of me when you literally stopped driving just to kiss me. We would survive the crash.”

“But I _like_ this car. Besides, that'd be such a cliche, being dangerous because I need to kiss you so badly. First things first, I'm responsible.”

“Three years ago in Maine you threw a stick at a werewolf.”

“I panicked! It kept coming after us after we attacked it, and don't forget that _you_ threw one after I did!”

“Because you hit it in the eye and it fell over. It worked for you, so I tried it..”

"So how is this you making fun of me if you're saying my stick-thing worked?”

"...I love you?”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I love you,” he repeats, leaning forward to nuzzle her neck. She squirms, giggling uncontrollably. He always goes for her ticklish spots.

“Uncle, you asshole, c'mon, we have somewhere to be! Your mom's expecting us at two and we could have called her if someone hadn’t refused to buy a mobile device.”

She's smiling as he draws back, beaming at her with sunlight catching his face. She leans forward and brushes their lips together. “I love you, too,” she says.

It's a nice moment, so she's pretty annoyed when someone in the distance screams.

They whip their heads towards their left, eyeing the entrance of the woods. “Nancy,” he whispers.

“Yeah, I know. C'mon.”

They speed out of the car and race into the woods in a mere second, following the sounds of heavy breathing and the rustling of leaves. “ _What the fuck”_ someone keeps saying, their voice frantic and shaking. They reek of sweat, tears, and blood, this fact pushing Nancy faster and faster into the woods.

She has to remind herself that she absolutely cannot feed when they nearly stumble into the person—a teen, no more than seventeen, his wild, thick hair soaked in blood, more of it streaming down his face.

It seems like Jonathan needs to do the same thing too. He nearly lunges forward. She grabs his wrist and squeezes tightly

“What happened?” Nancy says. She rips her gaze away from the mess of blood on his head, forcing herself to look into his eyes.

“There was this—this thing, I don't know, like, with tentacles and shit. It _hit_ me!”

“Are you okay?” Jonathan asks.

“What? I'm fine, yeah, great—”

“Can you really say that if you're bleeding profusely?”

“It's just a cut,” he huffs.

Jonathan snorts from beside her. “Did you see where it went?”

“You're not going after it, are you? You're crazy.”

“Yeah, probably,” Nancy says, straining to hear where the monster of is over the sound of this kid's heavy breathing. It's distracting. “Relax. You're safe now.”

“You two are very calm about this,” the boy says slowly, stepping back as he looks at them with widening eyes.

Jonathan shrugs. “We're calm people. We meditate.”

His eyebrows furrow. “I've never seen either of you at school before. Are you new here or—"

“ _Shh!_ Jonathan, did you hear that?”

“Hear what—"

“ _SHH!”_ Nancy and Jonathan hiss in unison. “Is it running? D'you think it can find us—"

“Of course it can,” Jonathan sighs. He tackles the boy to the ground as Nancy leaps over them, fist and fangs out, knocking the beast's head off in one, swift move. Its head lands in her hands as its body hits the ground with a satisfying thud. She stares at it, thankful that she hasn't ruined her clothing. The green head quickly fades, dulling until its grey. The tentacles shrivel up. Her shoulders slump with relief.

Not a great way to start her return to Hawkins.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“That _thing_ was behind you! Did you think I was tackling you for fun?”

"Some warning would've been nice!”

“Okay, so next time I save your life, I'll be sure to give you a notice,” Jonathan scowls.

Nancy snorts. Are they aware that they're still clinging onto each other? “Ahem.” She watches their heads turn to look at her as she tosses its round, squishy head back and forth. “I saved his life.”

“Team effort,” the boy grumbles, still in Jonathan's arms. “How did you, I mean, how did _you_ know to tackle me, and how did you—”

"So many questions.” The gears in Nancy's mind turn. “Why aren't _you_ in school right now?”

“It's July,” he answers, his eyebrows furrowed. “You would know that, wouldn't you?”

“Oh...yeah, yeah, of course. We forgot. Being seventeen is just … so wild. Jonathan, stop laughing at me!”

“You guys are so fucking weird,” he says, but he's grinning, sitting up and shaking his hair like a dog.

“You've got a twig in your hair,” Jonathan says awkwardly.

He blinks. “What, where?”

“In your hair.”

“I _know_ that, but where—"

Nancy bends down, using the hand not currently holding a severed head to pluck the twig out of his hair. “It was bothering me too.” She gives Jonathan a tiny, gentle smile.

Jonathan's hand reaches out for hers. He laces their fingers, their scars almost perfectly lined up. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.” She rubs her thumb over his knuckle, fighting the instinct to kiss him.

“Y'know, I'm great. I'm handling this perfectly, as great as you two are. Maybe even better.”

She can't help but laugh.

Jonathan stares at her, raising his eyebrows, but she can see the corners of his mouth raising. This has been their normal for years. She almost forgets how for the vast majority, it's all pure fiction.

She almost tells him that he's handling it pretty well, but then he looks at her and she forgets what she was thinking. “I'm Steve,” he says. He looks at Jonathan, his heartbeat going faster as he quickly sits up.

“I'm Nancy,” she says before she can think it over.

“Jonathan,” he says, somewhat resigned.

There's no way Steve will ever know who or what they are, anyways. They're fine.

In another universe, Steve would be there in 1983 with them, fighting monsters that at least couldn’t turn you into one too. Or maybe they would have soft stories without any death. They would be neighbours. Or they would work in a small, cozy ice-cream store together. Or they would be seventeen and fall in love in history class.

But this is the universe they’re in. When he smiles, she already knows they’re doomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI THERE! thank you for reading!
> 
> this is the most different (and difficult) story i've ever done. it was supposed to be a sad, melancholic one-shot where jancy are Older vampires who meet steve. this happened instead. it was inspired by That Picture of natarlie (peep the first image of nat and charlie in the moodboard, which whew, what a look.) i don't know where this came from, but i’m pleased.
> 
> there is a technical age-gap. i consider jonathan and nancy seventeen, but i totally get it if this one isn't for you! re will's disappearance and what happened: more on that later. the tags say happy ending, and that applies for everyone. (except for barb lmao whoops!)
> 
> weekly updates **every friday's** , with (maybe) eight chapters in total. thanks for joining me on this ride. i'm super and nervous excited to share this and would love to know what you think! validation fuels the soul.
> 
> say hi on tumblr! i'm trulyalpha and would Truly be delighted to see ya there. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> possible trigger warning: there's a brief, non-graphic scene where nancy and jonathan eat mice in the woods. let me know if you have any questions! 
> 
> and now, the chapter.

****“You guys new?”

“Visiting,” Jonathan answers, his gaze focussed on the road. “My mom—my mom’s mom, my grandmother, I mean, she, uh, broke her hip. I don’t know how long we’ll be in Hawkins.”

“You two are...related?” Steve makes a face. He shifts in the backseat of their car, adjusting his long legs to a more comfortable position. His heartbeat has calmed immensely since a few minutes ago, when Nancy offered him a ride home.

Nancy meets Jonathan’s eyes and suppresses a laugh. “No, we’re not related. I wanted to go with him. His parents couldn’t make it and his grandmother likes me.”

“She does,” Jonathan says, smiling.

“You two been together for awhile?”

Nancy turns around from the passenger seat to look at Steve, squeezed in between their three pieces of luggage. All these questions about them and he hasn’t given them the chance to probe back. “Yeah. What about you? What’re you doing in the woods in the middle of the day?”

“I was on a run,” Steve says defensively, “I’m in cross country. Even though it’s summer, I’ve gotta keep up. You guys in any clubs?”

“Journalism. He’s in charge of yearbook.”

She can sense Jonathan’s eyes on her and firmly ignores it. So what if she likes thinking about what their lives could’ve been, what it _should’ve_ been? It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t hurt to want these things. It mostly just aches.

“Oh, shit, you’re a photographer?” Steve’s eyes light up. “What’s your IG?”

“I don’t have Instagram,” Jonathan scoffs. He sounds like the disgruntled middle-aged man he would’ve been.

Steve rolls his eyes.“Okay, edgelord, you’re better than social media. You’re not as weak as the rest of us. I get it. What about you?”

“I deactivated all my accounts. I’m trying to cleanse for now,” she lies smoothly, taking the line out of the overflowing stack of magazines Murray keeps in their kitchen.

“Oh, for sure, yeah. Social media’s totally stupid.”

Nancy bites back a grin. “Are you sure you’ll be fine? We can take you to the hospital or call someone or—”

“It’s fine,” Steve insists, waving a hand. He keeps fidgeting despite being totally calm, bouncing his legs up and down. Nancy sits on her hands to keep from pressing her hand over his knee and holding him in place. “You’ve both helped me enough and you’re driving me home, so don’t worry about it. I’ve had concussions before. I know the signs.”

“You’re not bleeding anymore, so you should be fine,” Nancy says.

Steve touches the back of his head almost self-consciously. “How’d you know that?”

“I...have eyes.”

“So fucking weird,” he says, despite his faint smile.

“What’s weirder? Us or that thing with _tentacles_ that literally tried to kill you?” There’s a ghost of a smile on Jonathan’s lips as he glances briefly over his shoulder.

“You guys. Definitely you guys.”

Partway through her laugh, Nancy locks eyes with Jonathan. She knows him better than she knows anything else in the world. She knows, just by the life blooming in his eyes that there’s the same, fluttery feeling in his ribcage, too.

They drop Steve off at his ridiculously large house. He tells them about a party he’s hosting later tonight to kick off the beginning of summer.

“If you want,” he adds, “I know you’re probably busy, so no worries. But if you can. Free beer for saving my life.”

“Tempting,” Nancy says. “We’ll think it over.”

As soon as Steve’s exited the car, Jonathan whispers, “We’re not going, right?”

“Of course not,” she says, annoyed by the twinge of disappointment in her chest. “I just didn’t want to hurt his feelings. But it’s not like anyone would recognize us...”

“Nancy,” he says gently, touching her forearm, “We have to be careful. We can’t ... you know.”

She melts at his touch. She’s certain that Jonathan means that in more ways than one.“I know.”

Steve jogs to his door and turns around before stepping inside. He waves, his grin blindingly-bright.

She waves back and watches him slip inside his house.

.

.

.

“You two didn’t have to come all this way,” Joyce huffs, beckoning Jonathan for a hug. She nestles her head in his shoulder, breathing him in like she can’t quite believe that he’s here, in their home, in her arms.

“Of course we did. I can help. Please let me help.”

“I’m not drinking your blood.”

“You can have mine,” Nancy mockingly offers. “It’s less gross than his.” She sets her duffle bag by Joyce’s sofa and bends down to kiss her forehead.

“It just—it’s so weird, you know?” Joyce pulls Nancy into a hug next, kissing her forehead. “Drinking your blood.”

“We’ve been seventeen since 1983,” Jonathan says, “It won’t get weirder than that and you’ve handled that pretty well.”

Joyce forces a smile. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” The silence that follows is suffocating. Jonathan’s eyes water and Nancy wants to reach out for him, hold him, do _something,_ but he and his mother are a unit. They have each other.

She ducks into the kitchen as they reach for each other. She rifles through the pantries and decides to make them all tea. She brightens when she spies an opened packet of chamomile tea that her kitchen cupboards would always be stocked with before it all.

Sitting with Joyce and Jonathan, talking and reminiscing over cups of tea is the most normal thing she’s done in ages.

A few hours later, Karen arrives. Nancy melts in her mother’s arms, biting back tears as she accepts a bouquet of lilacs and a container of baked cookies.

In this world, in a way, they do count as young lovers meeting each other’s parents. Jonathan is every mother’s dream—he’s polite, makes Nancy’s mother a cup of coffee, and asks her dozens of questions about Holly and Mike before Nancy can get the chance.

Joyce had gone up to take a nap an hour ago, when Karen, brightly smiling, says, “Did you know that Mike’s in town for a few days?”

“Mom,” Nancy stresses, tensing. “C’mon.”

“Jonathan, what do you think? If you had the chance to see Will—”

Nancy grits her teeth, her eyes narrowing in warning. “ _Mother,_ leave Jonathan out—”

“—would you take it?”

Jonathan pales. His smile twitches with discomfort as he avoids both of their gazes. He fiddles with his fingers, clearing his throat. “I can’t answer that, Mrs. Wheeler.”

“I’m just saying, honey, don’t you think you’re being a little selfish? Jonathan can never see his brother again, but _you_ can. You may have forever, but we don’t. It’s not fair.”

“Do you feel like that?” He still won’t look at Nancy, so she grabs his chin and tilts his face towards her. “Jonathan?”

He presses his hand over hers. His eyes are tired, but his smile is soft. “I can’t answer that. You know I’ll respect and understand your choice no matter what.”

“Just think about it,” her mother begs. Gone is her plastered-on smile and her guilt-tripping, replaced with an honest plea that Nancy can at least appreciate. “That’s all I’ll ask. Please.”

.

.

.

When Nancy wakes up the next morning, she feels restless. She decides to go for a run. Despite being able to run mile in a second if she wanted to, she likes running at a regular pace. She especially likes the effort and concentration it takes to continuously put one foot in front of the other. It’s soothing. It’s mundane. It’s _human._

And it’s distracting.

She leaves Jonathan a note and kisses his forehead on her way out. Once she reaches the door of their room, she glances over her shoulder. His hair sticks out in every direction. Drool drips down his chin, past his opened mouth. It’s impossible to fight the instinct to speed back in to kiss his forehead again, so she doesn’t bother, sending a fond look down at him before quickly setting off.

Nancy doesn’t mean to run the same route that they had driven the prior morning where they found Steve. It’s a complete coincidence.

At some point, she thinks she hears Steve’s breathing. The sound is already familiarized in her mind. Maybe she even smells his sweat again. She dismisses it as being early in the morning. She’s probably still half-asleep. It’s not like Steve will be here, at the same spot where he was attacked barely a day ago by a—

“NANCY!? IS THAT YOU?”

She laughs. Somehow, she’s not surprised. She stops running, turning around to find Steve.

He’s running a few feet behind her, slick with seat, wearing a grey muscle tank and a pair of shorts. His eyes meet hers and he abruptly stops running.

“Steve!” Nancy calls out. She can’t help but smile from watching him take his earbuds out and stuff them into his pockets. The sound of his heartbeat picking up, not from nervousness but excitement, rings pleasantly in her ears.

“Hey, Nancy!” He crosses the short distance between them. “I didn’t see you last night,” he pants. He flashes her an award-winning smile, his eyes shining. They jog forward together. "’S everything okay with Jonathan’s grandma?”

“She’s okay. We were just tired.”

“Oh,” he says. He ducks his head and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. “Well, I’m having another party tonight.”

“Really?”

“No. But I can if that’ll get you two to show up.”

Nancy quickens her pace to deepen the flush in Steve’s cheeks. It definitely has nothing to do with how much she’s beaming. “You barely know us. We could be serial killers.”

“So could I!”

“I saw you yesterday in the face of danger. You’re definitely not a serial killer.”

“You never know. Maybe that’s how I lure my prey. With deceptiveness.”

“And inviting them to your house.”

Steve smiles as he catches up to her once more. “Exactly! You’re getting it.” He pauses, unmoving, until his breathing evens out. “I’m not a serial killer, FYI, but I could be.”

“Cross country-runners with axe body-spray usually are,” she says dryly. Her ponytail sways behind her as she cocks her head to the side. Truthfully, he doesn’t only smell like axe; there’s sweat, a little bit of rubber, a generic brand of cologne, and the faint but distinct scent of peaches. Not that she would tell him that. Not that she’s paying any attention to it. Not that she likes the smell or anything.

He scoffs. “Axe is not that bad.”

“It reeks.”

“ _You_ reek.”

“I’m not even sweating," she protests. She pokes her dry forehead as proof and to not so discreetly tell him that he’s covered in sweat.

“Which makes it even more concerning, Nance.”

 _Nance._ She can’t stop smiling. Another laugh tumbles past her lips. “You’re getting comfortable, aren’t you?” She ignores the voice in her head saying that he isn’t the only one.

“Well, I might as well. You’re here for the summer, aren’t you?”

“Indefinitely,” she reminds him, “We’re here indefinitely. We could leave at any moment.”

“That makes our time together even more important, don’t ya think?” Steve still catching his breath, but he’s also still keeping up with Nancy. “It’s just—you guys are cool! You came out of nowhere and saved my ass. What can I say? I’m intrigued.”

They slow down and walk comfortably, side-by-side.

Nancy doesn’t know what she’s doing. She should have stayed inside. She should have her legs tangled in Jonathan’s and her head resting on his chest. But she’s out here in the sunlight instead, running for the hell of it, running because she still can, running because it’s one of the few things that vampirism didn’t take from her. She listens intently to Steve’s staccato heartbeat and softens at his boyish smile. There’s a place for Jonathan here if he would just take it.

“I’m more dangerous than I look, you know.” She raises her chin and looks him straight in the eye.

Steve doesn’t look away. “Trust me, I know.”

.

.

.

Jonathan’s mad.

He won’t say it. But his body’s gone very still and he’s not _looking_ at her.

“Jonathan, c’mon, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, okay? Nothing.”

He won’t budge, sitting in the armchair in the living room, a book clutched in between his hands. Fine, she thinks determinedly. “Nancy, what’re you—”

She doesn’t respond. She continues sprawling herself across his lap, taking his book and slipping his bookmark in between the pages he left off at. She holds his book out of reach. “I’m not doing anything.” It’s an uncomfortable position. The armchair is small. Her legs are sliding over an armrest. His knees dig into her back. But she’s not going to budge either.

“You’re so ridiculous,” he says, the same way he’s said it for the past thirty-six years. His mouth curves into a small smile. “Okay. Fine. You want to know what’s wrong? I’m just worried for you. This thing won’t end well, for you, for Steve. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Nancy softens. She cups his jaw and shuts her eyes. She doesn’t understand how after everything, his heart is still pure. She had half-expected snark and jealousy, but she isn’t really surprised by this. She knows him better than that. “We’re going to lose things either way. I don’t want to run from it and miss out.”

“Which is why you haven’t seen your brother since 1983?”

She stiffens. Every muscle in her body tenses. “That’s different.”

“How?”

“It’s complicated. I’m trying to protect Mike from the truth. If I see him, I have to explain what happened and ruin whatever wonderfully mundane life he has. How can I explain what happened? That I died? That I’ve killed? Maybe he’s better off.”

“No one’s better off without you.”

“You know what I mean, you cheese-ball,” she teases, despite knowing that he’s serious. “But I’ll think about it. I mean it, okay?”

“Okay.” His eyes shift, but only barely, with flecks of red only noticeable up close. He strokes her hair. “You know my mom’s gone for at least an hour."

Nancy raises an eyebrow. “What were you thinking?” She asks even as she’s adjusting her position to properly straddle his lap.

A shiver runs down her spine when his fangs glint underneath the fluorescent lighting. “I’m just kind of hungry.” His eyes flash red.

“Jonathan Byers." She can’t help but giggle. “That was so lame.”

“What, I thought it was clever," he teases, smiling up at her.

“It was cute. You swear we have time?”

“Promise. God bless book club. For real, I’m so glad she has a support system, people she can rely on, I’m always so worried, and—sorry, shutting up right now.”

“You talking about how much you care about your mom is hot. Trust me.”

He frowns. “You want me to keep going?”

“What—no, that’s not what I meant!”

“Good, because that would’ve been really weird.”

“Weirder than going to Steve’s house tonight?”

“That wasn’t a smooth segue-way. He asked you?”

“He asked _us,_ ” she corrects. She frames his face with her hands on his cheeks and looks deeply into his eyes. “It could be fun. We don’t get to do normal things.”

“Normal things are for normal people and—and I’m going to shut up before you make fun of me for finishing that thought.”

“I would never make fun of you.”

“You do it all the time.”

“But not like, seriously. Like I don’t really think your music is terrible.”

“I think yours is, though.”

“Y’know, I was suddenly horny, but now—”

Jonathan laughs. “Sorry. I’m good for tonight, I guess. Steve doesn’t seem so bad. Especially not if you like him.”

“He’s harmless. He’s ... he’s good and he won’t know about us, okay?”

“Mm, okay. I trust you.”

“I trust you too,” Nancy says. She sinks her teeth into her wrist and then holds it out in front of him. Dark, blackish red drops of her blood falls onto her thigh. His eyes darkening and his lips parting cause heat to stir in her stomach. “Bon appetit.”

.

.

.

“Are you nervous?”

“No,” Jonathan so clearly lies, shoving his hands into his pockets. _Why_ he’s wearing all black when it’s a million degrees out is beyond Nancy. She would say he took their dead-thing too seriously, but he’s always been like this. “I’m keeping my guard-up. He could be a serial killer.”

The thought makes her laugh. “Like he could kill us.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to kill someone. This was supposed to be a nice visit back home. Murder kind of ruins that.”

“I’ve already killed something, and I’m having a great time.”

“You said that a little too eagerly.”

“Like there’s any other way to talk about murder." She swings their laced fingers back and forth. “I’m kidding, don’t give me that look. You know—”

“Don’t worry. I know.” He raises their joined hands and kisses her palm. “What’s taking him so long?”

“He probably can’t hear the doorbell from the twentieth floor of this house,” Nancy snorts. She rings the doorbell once more.

They wait thirty more seconds. Steve finally opens the door, lazily grinning as he takes in the sight of them. “Glad you two could make it.”

"Jonathan _loves_ parties, you know.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “You do?”

“Nancy’s not as funny as she thinks," Jonathan claims, despite laughing as soon as she lightly swats his arm.

“Come in, come in! I have refreshments.”

They follow Steve inside. Jonathan’s the last one inside so he shuts the door behind him. “Water’s fine.”

“Cool,” Steve says casually, his heartbeat anything but as it goes wild. “Nance?”

“Same here.” She makes the mistake of looking at Jonathan who is far more amused than she appreciates, mouthing _Nance?_ “So,” she says loudly, “do you always invite people you’ve known for a day into your house after they’ve saved your life?”

“Of course. How else do you make friends?”

There’s something off about Steve’s kitchen. She isn’t used to walking into a kitchen without newspaper clippings spread out across the counter, half-empty blood bags, and ugly, clay squirrels haphazardly organized. This kitchen, meanwhile, is unbelievably clean and organized. It’s spotless without a single thing out of place. It doesn’t look lived in.

“How’d you two meet?” Steve scans his fridge, tapping his fingers against the fridge door.

Nancy winces. “Um. We’ve known each for awhile. Childhood friends. It just happened.”

“Aw.” Without any warning, he throws a water bottle into Jonathan’s hands.

Jonathan catches it, of course, not without floundering briefly and looking utterly bewildered.

“That’s adorable," Steve adds, unfazed.

“What about you?” Jonathan asks. He absentmindedly scratches the bottle’s label. “Anyone, um, special?”

“Nah. All my childhood friends are dicks.”

She swallows back a smile and looks around his kitchen. She stifles a gasp at the sight of a large, eerie family-portrait. “That’s, uh, nice.”

“Please don’t,” Steve groans, covering his eyes with his palm.

“Your socks are so long,” Jonathan says. His eyes crinkle with a smile. “No one’s smiling, though.”

“Dad didn’t want anyone smiling. He wanted the family picture to be, and yes, this is exactly what he said, _professional_.”

“He seems … um.” Nancy grimaces. She takes in the image of the stony-faced, grey-haired man in the portrait. Steve could easily look like him a few decades down the line. Nancy, despite not knowing a single thing about Steve’s father other than his son or how filthy rich he is, has a gut feeling that that’s where their similarities would end. “I can’t think of a nice thing to say.”

“That’s ’cuz there isn’t any,” Steve says bitterly. He clenches his jaw and shuts the fridge door. “But hey, he’s gone most weekends and doesn’t really talk. Kind of a blessing sometimes. Especially when I invite two shady people into my house.”

“We’re not _shady_." She catches the water bottle Steve tosses with ease. "People who saved your life aren’t shady."

“That’s part of why I asked you two over." Steve blinks rapidly, twirling his fingers through his hair as if to keep his hands busy. She wouldn’t need to hear his heart to know how nervous he is. “Let’s go sit by the pool and chat.”

.

.

.

“So some answers would be nice,” Steve concludes, bouncing his leg up and down.

Nancy slowly tilts her head to meet Jonathan’s eyes. The label on his water bottle has been completely scratched off. “Well,” she says slowly. She hadn’t expected Steve to launch into how he’s convinced Hawkins is swarming with dangerous monsters that could cause a lot of ’shit’ (he’s not wrong) and how he thinks Nancy and Jonathan could help. “We’ve dealt with monsters like that back home. We know what we’re doing.”

“You make it sound like you’re monster hunters or something.”

“Monsters honestly just seem to always find us. It’s kind of weird, but, I mean, we basically are _monster hunters_ ,” Jonathan says. He sets his half-empty water bottle by his feet. “Look, you can trust us. We would never hurt anyone. We would never hurt you.”

“I know that," Steve scoffs. It doesn’t match how his racing heartbeat immediately settled after Jonathan spoke. “I mean, look at you. You look too tired to have proper hand coordination.”

Jonathan splutters. “What did I do or say to warrant that—”

“But I’ve been thinking … This kid in my fourth period algebra class from last semester went missing. They found his toe in the woods last night. The same place that tentacle-thing attacked me. What if, you know?”

“What if,” Nancy echoes. Her mind drifts to Barb, her red hair, her snarky grin, and her round glasses. Then to Will. It could be a coincidence, but she doubts it. She already knows that she won’t be able to let this go. She refuses to let more innocent people die, because no one has ever been warned about this town’s hidden danger.

She couldn’t save them then, but this is now. This is a chance. No one else has to die. “What do the police think?” She continues.

“They’re _investigating,_ so doing absolutely nothing. It’s bullshit. How do they not have any leads? How could he vanish out of nowhere in this tiny fucking town?”

“Were you two close?” Jonathan’s voice softens.

“No, but—but nothing.” Steve shakes his head dismissively. He shakes the bottle in his hands back and forth, its contents sloshing inside. The sound reverberates in Nancy’s mind. “I haven’t told anyone about yesterday, but I already know that the police wouldn’t believe me. None of my friends would either. But you two, you two knew what you were doing the other day.”

“It’s, um,” Jonathan says, voice cracking, “kind of hard to find him. We can kill monsters, but unfortunately, we can’t find people.”

Nancy jumps out of her seat. She scoots next to Jonathan on his chair and rubs his shoulder soothingly. “We can make sure it won’t happen again,” she says firmly, “You have any summer plans?”

Steve blinks. A frown tugs at his mouth. He reaches out as if to comfort Jonathan before quickly retracting his hand. “Uh. Not really, but I feel like I will. Is he—”

“I’m fine." His voice is muffled from hiding his face into the sleeve of his shirt.

Steve’s watching them worriedly, but that’s not her priority. She coos, “I’ve got you,” into Jonathan’s ear, over and over again.

“Do you need anything? Can I get you some more water?” Steve’s smile is tight, thin-lipped, and endearing all at once.

He sniffs, still covering his face. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course it is, man, just one second!" Steve climbs to his feet and slaps Jonathan’s back on his way back into the house. They hear his distant, _oh, what the fuck was that,_ and chuckle together.

Nancy kisses Jonathan’s cheek and gently pushes his hair back. She leans her forehead against the side of his face.

“I’m okay, really.”

“Maybe I jus’ like touching your hair and kissing your face.”

“Well then carry on." He chuckles wetly. “What were you thinking of doing about what Steve said?”

“The only thing we can. The only thing we’ve been doing for thirty-something years. Monster hunting. We’re the best people for it. We can patrol the woods. Keep Hawkins safe. Make sure nothing like what happened to Barb or that poor kid happens again.”

“You didn’t ... you didn’t say Will’s name.”

“You know I still think he could be out there. Nothing’s impossible.”

He smiles weakly. “I know.” On his wrist, he taps his static pulse.

She opens her mouth right when Steve comes running back into his backyard. He doesn’t throw the water bottle at Jonathan this time. He passes it to him instead.

Their fingers brush. At the exact same moment, Jonathan nearly drops the bottle and Steve’s heartbeat accelerates.

Nancy wastes no time in explaining her idea. “You know what you’re signing up for? You’re _sure_ about this?” She’ll do everything she can to keep Steve safe. It’s different this time around. They know how to use their strength, how to wield their power. She just doesn’t want him seeing anything that could irrevocably change his life.

“I am. I’m a fast-runner, and okay, that’s it, but I’m willing to learn. Plus, you could be a trained-assassin if you wanted to, and Jonathan looks like he could beat me up. If he got enough sleep. We’re good.”

“Thank...you?”

“You’re welcome.”

“So,” Nancy says, quick to drop her grin when she asks, “What time during the day did he go missing?”

“He was last seen after writing our algebra exam. He could’ve been there during daylight, like we were.”

“Then tomorrow, say ten am?”

“That’s so early.”

“Is it though?” Nancy presses.

“How about eleven?” Jonathan suggests.

“Still—”

“Steve,” Jonathan interrupts gently. “Don’t you care about this town?”

“Not really.”

.

.

.

They eventually agree on half-past ten.

Later, when they go home, when Jonathan and Nancy are tangled in his bed, he says, “Will would be forty-eight. I can’t imagine that. Do you think I would recognize him if I saw him?”

“I do. He’s your brother. You two have always had a good relationship. Your heart would recognize him anywhere.”

She waits for his voice to break or his eyes to water. But there’s nothing except for a peaceful look. “I think he would’ve been tall. Taller than me, eventually. He probably would’ve grown his hair out at some point.”

Nancy doesn’t know what to say. She only nods, hoping he continues.

He does. He talks in fragments. Light pauses hang in between each semi-coherent thought. “My mom wholeheartedly believes he’s still out there. She says she can feel him, like a part of her died when _I_ did, but she didn’t feel anything that deep for him. Do you believe that? No bullshit.”

“No bullshit? I do. My mom basically said the same thing during one of our phone calls. That she always knew I was safe. I mean, statistically, the chances of Will being turned right before we were ... it’s so likely, Jonathan.”

“Then where is he? I just don’t get it.”

“Maybe he didn’t feel safe. Maybe he knew he couldn’t stay here, and didn’t want to risk your life, your mom’s, my brother and their friends. It makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it? It’s why we left after all.”

Jonathan’s smile is weak, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “I guess it does. I just don’t know what it would take to get him back here.”

“We have the time.”

“My mom doesn’t.” Jonathan’s face falls. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, Nancy, I—”

“Shut up. I know." She tucks her head into where his neck meets his shoulder. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“We would be fifty-three.”

.

.

.

Steve’s cute.

He has sunscreen not properly smeared on his nose and asked them the night beforehand for a weapon, if they had any.

“You brought me a _bat?_ ”

“It can be a weapon." Jonathan shrugs and passes the bat to Steve. “My brother, he, um, played baseball for a hot second when he was a kid.”

“He still play?”

“I don’t know, actually.”

Nancy clears her throat, kicking at an acorn on the ground. “It’s better than nothing."

“Which is exactly what you two have.”

“We figured, y’know, nothing’s going to happen on our first day. Nothing usually does,” Nancy says, mostly to calm Steve down.

Steve nods. He twirls the bat in his hands experimentally. “So what do we do?”

Jonathan runs a hand through his hair, warily keeping an eye on Steve playing with the bat. “Chill?”

“Oh. Cool. I brought snacks.”

“You _did!?”_ She exclaims, instantly perking up.

“And juice-boxes.”

Nancy bounces eagerly on the balls of her feet. She catches Jonathan raising an eyebrow at her in her peripheral vision. “What?”

“Nothing. Hey, Steve, what flavour are your juice-boxes?”

“Cherry!”

She lightly nudges Jonathan. "How fitting,” she murmurs, quiet enough that Steve won’t hear her.

“Here,” Steve says, tossing a granola bar into Jonathan’s hands. “Nance said you liked granola bars heavy with nuts, which, disgusting, but you do you.”

Puzzled, he stares at the half-melted granola bar in his hands. “What?” He furrows his eyebrows at Nancy.

“Nothing,” Nancy says almost gleefully. She hops over to Steve to see what other snacks he has in his backpack.

.

.

.

“I’m so happy you’re staying,” Karen says. She smiles brightly and adds more pasta to Nancy’s plate. “What made you change?”

“Lots of things. I miss you, Jonathan misses Joyce.” Nancy’s suddenly reminded of Steve nearly whacking his head with the bat earlier today and suppresses a smile. “I’m sorry I missed Mike, but honestly, I do want to see him. Will he be visiting anytime soon?”

“I can just tell him to come—”

“No!” She blurts out.

“Nancy,” Karen chides, frowning.

“Maybe I’m not ready, but I promise I’ll see him before the end of the summer. Deal?”

“Deal. You know, you’re impossibly stubborn.”

“Wonder where I get it from.” Nancy laughs at the indignant look her mom gives her. “It’s a compliment!”

“I didn’t mean it that way. But it can be admirable. Unless it’s you not meeting your siblings or telling me what happened.”

“I don’t want to put you in danger, mom, just trust me.”

“Danger?” Karen’s heart drops and rings loudly in Nancy’s ears. “Honey, what did you get yourself into?”

“I don’t know where I’d even start,” she half-laughs. She sobers up at the sight of Karen’s wobbling chin. “But I’m okay. I’m not alone. I’m happy. And honestly, a big part of that is you. The first time I called you felt like lifting this huge weight off my shoulders.”

Karen smiles through her tears. She reaches over the dining table that hasn’t changed at all in the past three and a half decades. “Really?”

“Really." She grabs her mother’s hands. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for making you worry. I’m sorry for not coming to dad’s funeral.”

Karen’s heartbeat returns to normal, instantly soothing Nancy. “I understand. Not why you did it, of course, but you are intelligent as you are stubborn. I’m sure you had your reasons.”

_It was too soon. People would recognize me at my father’s own funeral. I had talking, murderous alligators to kill. The only thing we had in common were our last names. He was barely a father._

“Thank you,” is what Nancy says. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“I’m the only one in the family you see.” She smiles sadly and sniffs. “Of course I know.”

.

.

.

Nancy makes two observations that week.

Firstly: nothing happens in the woods or in town. No one else goes missing nor is anyone attacked.

Secondly: Steve has the patience of a three year-old.

“Let’s go eat something. Or swim. There’s a _lake_ here. Come on. It’s summer and I’m bored.”

“You never know what could happen,” Jonathan says.

“Okay, serial killer,” Steve scoffs.

Nancy doesn’t know if she wants to laugh or rub Jonathan’s back. She does the latter. “We could grab ice cream? What, Jonathan, it’s like a million degrees out, and I’m dying.”

She instantly regrets her word-choice. His lips slightly curl as he turns to Steve. “Will you stop bitching?”

“I’ll never stop bitching. Shit, wait, I want ice cream more, never-mind. I’ll stop. I’ll stop!”

Jonathan bites down on his lip like he’s trying not to laugh. He walks back to his car and slides into the front seat. Nancy sits next to him in the passenger seat.

Steve climbs into the backseat. He picks Jonathan’s camera up from the seat next to him and holds it securely to his chest. They played around with Jonathan’s camera just thirty minutes ago, taking silly pictures of each other. Steve had swiped it from Jonathan. He and Nancy passed it back and forth until Jonathan promised to let them use his camera, just not when they were patrolling in case of an attack that would inevitably lead to his camera breaking.

“Man, your car is super old and cool,” Steve admires. He runs his fingers along the seatbelt before he drops his hands into his lap. Nancy considers chastising him for not wearing a seat-belt, until she remembers that is she isn’t wearing one either. She can’t explain why it’s okay for her and not for him. “I’d love to drive someday if you’d be cool with that. When did you get it?”

“Sometime ago,” Jonathan replies. He turns his head around to check if there’s anyone behind him and proceeds to drive ahead.

“You’re a great conversationalist. Why can’t you be like Nance?”

“We can’t all be that amazing.” The casualness in Jonathan’s voice makes her smile and lean over to kiss him.

“Do you two have a _danger kink!?_ He’s driving!”

“You’re not wearing a seat-belt!” Nancy shoots back. She jabs a finger at Steve while he gawks at her.

“Neither are you!”

“You guys are five-years old,” Jonathan says.

“Okay, grandpa.”

If only Steve knew.

The ice cream store has been there for ages, long before Nancy was born. It’s a family establishment. For a second, she’s horrified that the owner, a kind man named Don, will be there. Someone younger, near their age, mans the cashier instead. Then she’s horrified all over, wondering where he is.

“How’s your grandpa doin’, Dawn?” Steve asks, staring at the big, menu screen behind her.

 _Thank God._ Nancy’s shoulders slump with relief.

Seeing Don’s granddaughter is still strange, though. This girl is simultaneously the same age as _and_ younger than Nancy. She knew her grandfather before he had grey hair. It makes her skin suddenly feel itchy. She avoids looking at Dawn, despite the slight joy that sparks in her heart when she considers the full life Don must have had.

“Did you think for a second there...?” Jonathan murmurs in her ear.

“Yeah. It doesn’t feel like it’s been this long, y’know?”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to. He slides an arm across her waist and she’s good.

They sit in a small, empty booth in the corner. The yellow paint on the table is fading. It spooks her to be back, as though she’s stepped into a time-machine. It’s almost like nothing has changed, but even then, she still feels different. She’s been seventeen for too long, but she’s never felt young. Not like this.

Steve sits across from them. He sets his order, two scoops of coffee-flavoured ice cream, down in front of him.

Jonathan’s eyes zero in on Steve’s ice cream. “Will’s order,” he croaks.

“Who’s Will? ’S that your brother?”

Shit.

Hawkins is a small town. When someone goes missing, it’s never forgotten, especially not a cold case like Will’s. No one forgets about the twelve year-old who suddenly vanished. The case had no suspects and no leads. It shook Hawkins to its core. If Steve pieces it together somehow, if he—

“We don’t talk anymore,” Jonathan says, his voice breaking. “I miss him a lot.”

Nancy shifts closer to Jonathan to lace their fingers. She squeezes his hand reassuringly.

“I can throw this out,” Steve offers. He glances at his dessert and wrinkles his nose like he’s suddenly disgusted by it.

Jonathan chuckles weakly. “Don’t. You paid five dollars for that.”

“Five dollars is not a lot.”

“Five dollars—never-mind.”

“Never-mind what?”

“I just remembered what your house looks like and it makes sense.” Jonathan’s eyes widen. He opens his mouth, but Steve doesn’t give him the chance to say sorry, catching Jonathan and Nancy both off guard with a laugh.

“You’re funny, man. Now if only you smiled more.”

“He gets it,” Nancy chimes in. She continues on despite Jonathan’s flabbergasted look, his hands raised defensively in front of him. “You have a nice smile. Show it more often.”

“I smile,” Jonathan says half-heartedly.

“Only at Nance. Not that I blame you.” Steve winks.

She rolls her eyes. Steve doesn’t even notice the bit of chocolate on his chin. “Only you would have the audacity to flirt with both people in a committed relationship,” she tells him, twirling her pink, plastic spoon in her mango sundae.

“You call it audacity. I call it bravery.”

Jonathan’s eyebrows pinch together. He licks a sprinkle off his bottom lip. “He flirted with me?”

Steve and Nancy share a laugh. “Did you make the first move?”

“Yes,” she says, recalling their first kiss with a glint in her eyes. “But I think he didn’t do anything because he didn’t want to rush me. I’d … just lost a family member. It was a weird time. He was very good. Still is.”

“I want a love like that,” Steve says softly. For a split-second, he freezes, but the moment soon passes. He coughs loudly and crosses one leg over the other, bumping his foot against Nancy’s. “One day, right?”

“Right,” she repeats. “It’ll happen when it happens. Don’t worry about it. You won’t notice you have it until you’re at least a little bit in love. I mean, we were thrown together by circumstance. Lots of crazy shit happened for us to get together, but it’s our story. I’ve lost a lot, but I’ve gotten a lot too.”

“Really?”

She kisses the corner of Jonathan’s mouth. “Really.”

“Least I have ice-cream,” Steve mumbles.

.

.

.

Nancy nearly forgot how much she adores the chamomile tea from Hawkins single grocery store.

She hasn’t found it anywhere else. It’s not particularly good. Her mom’s kitchen pantry was always stocked with it, so Nancy got used to the taste. It reminds her of early mornings in her old life, when Holly coloured her drawings so hard that she broke her crayons, and Mike ate pancakes with his mouth open. Nancy and her mother would share a look because _disgusting, Mike._

“I didn’t know you liked chamomile tea so much,” Joyce says. She enters the kitchen and brushes a hand against Nancy’s shoulder in an affectionate gesture.

"I don’t like it that much,” Nancy says, right before taking the first sip of her third cup. “You’re feeling better, right?”

“I feel amazing!” Joyce pulls a seat back from the dining table and sits carefully. “I feel great. Like—like I haven’t felt in ages. It’s a miracle.”

She nods, leaning against the kitchen counter. “This thing comes with a cost, but I’m glad something inherently good also comes with it. It was such a relief. Learning that I could do that. That I could help people.” She smiles, semi-embarrassed due to admitting so much.

But Joyce only smiles back like she’s happy for Nancy. “That’s truly nice to hear.” She taps her fingers against the wooden table, accidentally knocking her mug over.

Nancy dives forward without thinking. In the blink of an eye, the mug is back onto the table without a single drop of tea spilled.

Joyce lets out a startled laugh. “I forgot you could do that. Walking must be painfully tedious when you can speed on by.”

She shrugs in between sips of her tea. “It was at first. But then I grew to appreciate it and its normalcy. Is that weird?”

“Not at all.” Joyce’s smile becomes tender. “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re both thinking of spending the summer here. I’ve missed you and Jonathan so much.”

Nancy glows at the genuineness in Joyce’s voice. She relishes in the fact that Joyce has nothing but love for her. Having Jonathan’s mother approval is validating, but this is something else.

Joyce has had too many things taken from her. It would be easy, it would be understandable, it would be _fair_ to blame Nancy for it. She wouldn’t take it personally.

But instead of giving Nancy grief, she gives her warmth. One day, Nancy will muster up the courage to tell Joyce how much she admires her. How grateful she is for even a fraction of her love. “We miss you too,” she says instead. “We’ve both needed this. Being near our moms, our homes. We have a life, but sometimes...I don’t know. Sometimes I want the life that I had. I want the life I was _promised._ I know I’m not entitled to anything, but I was entitled to death, wasn’t I? Oh, oh no, I’m sorry, that’s selfish, that’s not right to say—”

“Nancy, you’re entitled to feel whatever you want. It’s okay. You don’t have to walk around eggshells with me.”

“I know, but it’s not fair. None of this is.” Nancy wipes her eyes furiously. She straightens her back and attempts at maintaining a neutral expression. “Jonathan tells me you think he’s out there.”

Joyce’s eyes light up. “I do,” she says firmly. “It’s a gut feeling. I can’t explain it. I used to think it was weird, but then my son told me he was dead, and he hasn’t aged a day in almost forty years.”

Nancy smiles, just barely. She takes another sip of her tea. “Neither have you.”

Joyce laughs, throwing her head back. It’s a nice sound, scratchy and beautiful like Jonathan’s, so Nancy laughs with her, despite meaning what she said. “I’m glad he doesn’t have to do this alone. I’m glad he has you. You’re remarkable, you know?”

“Thank you. Thank you for letting me stay here. Thank you for everything.”

“You know that you don’t have to be so formal with me. It’s been too long. You can stay whenever. You have a home here.”

She doesn’t know what to say. She wouldn’t be able to describe how much that means to her anyway. She drinks from her now lukewarm tea to hide her blooming grin. “I’ve never seen his baby pictures.”

“Well, that’s gotta change, huh?”

A few hours later, Jonathan wakes up from his nap to the sight of Nancy and Joyce fawning over a picture of him and Will from ages ago. He scratches his thoroughly disheveled hair with one hand. With the other, he rubs his eyes. “Good morning?”

“It’s four in the afternoon, honey.” Joyce pats the space next to them on the living room carpet. “Come on. We’re making fun of your brother’s haircut.”

“The one you gave him, you mean?” Jonathan speeds down the hallway to sit by his mother.

Joyce makes a choked sound at the sight of her son suddenly next to her. Her heartbeat increases only to settle when Jonathan’s knee presses against hers.

“She cursed me with the same haircut two years before,” Jonathan says to Nancy. His eyes crinkle with a smile at the picture of Will with his bowl-cut, reaching down to clutch it.

“I remember,” Nancy recalls. She hums at the memory. “You were frustratingly still cute.”

“You thought I was cute?”

“Yes. Didn’t you think I was cute?”

“Yes, but—”

“But what?”

“You were you and I was me with _that_ haircut.”

Joyce clucks her tongue to the roof of her mouth.“That haircut is not that bad, you’re exaggerating, honey.”

“All twelve year-olds are gross,” Nancy says factually. “Some less gross than other. You fit in that second category.”

Jonathan smiles. “You fit in the rare category of not gross at all.”

“Thank you.” She holds a hand over her heart. “Joyce, your son is such a romantic.”

“Truly.” Joyce shakes her head at them both.

In another life, they would be doing this, perhaps in the exact same spot. Maybe Jonathan and Nancy would look exactly the same while Joyce would be thirty years younger. Or Joyce would look exactly the same while Jonathan and Nancy would look (and be) their age. In both scenarios, Will would be with them, agreeing that the haircut was indeed that bad. Barb would roll her eyes and call them ’disgustingly cute, but mostly disgusting’.

But Barb’s not here. Nancy was too late and too slow. She didn’t get there in time, and in the end, they _both_ died. Will is still missing. In the living room sits two thirds of a family, along with a girl missing hers in a different way.

This is what they get instead.

Jonathan taps her arm and mouths, “Are you okay?”

Nancy nods. This is what they get instead, and maybe, eventually, she can make her peace with that.

.

.

.

That night, she dreams of red hair and round glasses. She hears Barb’s laughter before she sees her. The sight logically shouldn’t make her sick; seeing Barb’s face brightened with laughter and glee had always made Nancy smile, regardless of the situation.

She tries calling out to her, but of course Barb can’t hear her. It’s the better alternative to dreaming of Barb’s body, of her lifeless and rotten and expressionless, she supposes. Except she sees her best friend happy and thinks about how many more years of that she could’ve gotten if Nancy had just been faster.

For most of the dream, Barb laughs. Nancy gives up calling out to her and watches with the feeling of bile rising in her throat until Barb stops. “You wanna know why I’m laughing?” Dream Barb asks, her face suddenly empty and blank. “We’re both dead, but you’re still here. You’re going to be here forever. For the rest of time, you’ll have to deal with what you did. Or didn’t do, I guess.”

Nancy wakes up with a start. Her head pounds. Her eyes are open, but all she sees is Barb’s severed head. “I’m sorry! I tried my best!” She tries screaming, but her throat is too clogged up with Barb’s words that replay over and over again in her head.

It’s only when Jonathan’s thigh brushes against hers is she brought back to reality. He’s sleeping soundly next to her. The room is still swallowed in darkness. The analog clock reads 3:23 AM.

She refuses to disturb him, especially not when he looks peaceful and rested next to her. She tiptoes out of bed and resists the urge to speed into the kitchen.

She walks out of their room and into the kitchen, one step at a time. The floor is solid and steady underneath her feet. She flips the lightswitch on and makes a cup of chamomile tea.

The tea burns down her throat and washes Barb’s words away. “I’m sorry,” she tries saying again, the words finally coming out. “I tried my best.”

Barb would never say those things that Nancy heard in her dream, but Barb would also never say anything again.

This is what she gets. Someday, Nancy will make her peace with it. There’s not really a rush. She has the time, after all.

.

.

.

Nancy’s guilt came and went. By the following morning, her nausea had eased, so that night, she felt good enough to sneak off into the woods with Jonathan.

“You’re hungry, right?” Nancy paces back and forth in the washroom. She furiously towels her hair, annoyed, not for the first time, that she can heal others, and survive stabbings, bullet wounds, and monster attacks, but her hair still takes forever to dry. “You have to be starving, because I am losing my goddamn—”

“Lemme jus’ finish brushin’ my teeth?” Jonathan smirks through a mouthful of toothpaste.

She wipes the toothpaste dripping down his chin with her thumb. “Yeah, okay. Not like our lives depend on us feeding or whatever. It’s already been two weeks, and if we go any longer, we risk—”

“Do you want me to have gross teeth? I care about dental hygiene.”

“You haven’t seen a dentist in nearly forty years.”

“I wouldn’t need to. You know why?”

“You’re getting the toothpaste on the floor, Jonathan! Finish brushing your teeth!” She laughs and bumps her hip against his.

They don’t bother taking the car. They spend five minutes walking, fingers laced together, strolling in the moonlight. They quietly admire the stars. Nancy quickly grows impatient, so they race into the forest and arrive in seconds, compared to the fifteen minutes it would’ve taken with the car.

Over the years, Jonathan has stopped crying when they feed on the blood of animals: mice, bunnies, whatever they can get their hands on. “At least it’s not people,” he always says, more to himself. It’s an acknowledgement of his appreciation for Murray helping them to, over the years, satisfy their hunger in a less harmful way. He still apologizes before feasting, though.

Right after tonight’s apology, he asks, “Do you think they know they’re going to die when we kill them?”

Nancy licks the blood off her lips. “No.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not!”

The moonlight illuminates his half-smile. “I know when you’re lying.”

“I don’t want you to feel bad.”

“I’m going to feel bad regardless,” he says morosely. “Thanks for trying.”

She licks the remaining blood off the back of her teeth. “You’re not a bad person, you know.” She’s not sure how well her argument stands considering the amount of bones and flesh sitting in between them. Nancy lives with it. What makes this different than people eating meat on the daily? They’ve never killed a person just to feed. The only people they’ve killed were people, as in other supernatural creatures like themselves, attacking them: self-defence.

It’s not like she enjoys it. She always has to fight a wave of nausea prior to feeding, even if it’s gotten milder and milder over the years. But she’s learned to swallow and eat.

She’s not a bad person for managing with the cards she was dealt.

Jonathan has trouble remembering this. Nancy will happily remind him.

He smiles, a faint and tired thing that still lets her know that he’s thankful. “I know. You too.”

She smiles back and kicks the ’leftovers’ in front of them aside. “Are you still hungry?”

“Not really. You?”

“Is it bad that I’m considering sex in a forest?”

“You would have sticks scraping your skin.”

Nancy shrugs and scoots towards him. “You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t want to if I can’t get you—”

“Y’know that makes me want to more, right?”

He laughs, his hooded eyes watching her settle on his lap. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m—” Nancy cuts herself off. She hisses at the clear and distant sound of movement and the rustling of leaves. It comes from within the forest, not too far from them. No heartbeat. “Did you hear that?”

“Seriously,” Jonathan scowls. His eyes glow red. “We spend seven days here with Steve, and nothing, but the one time … God, of _course_ there’s a monster right when we’re about to have sex.”

Nancy steels herself and jumps to her feet. She pulls Jonathan up with her. “I know, I know, this timing is such bullshit. Are you still hard?”

“I need a second.”

“Oh, sure, yes, we can wait for you to finish!”

“That’s not what I meant! I’m talking about my zipper.”

Her dry remark dies in her throat when she distinctly hears something shuffling forward. She snaps her head towards the source of the sound. It gets louder and louder. It doesn’t sound like footsteps, more like someone’s pushing their weight forward, rolling themselves towards Nancy and Jonathan.

“Monsters are fun,” Jonathan grumbles. “They’re not as scary as the ones that talk.”

“Just unpredictable and tend to scream a lot,” Nancy says, pressing her back against his. She instinctively releases her fangs and darkens her eyes. “Well, jokes on it. I can scream louder. You know what I just realized? We’re like monster magnets. Why are they always up in our fucking busi—”

A growl pierces the air. Nancy charges forward. Jonathan calls after her, but she’s running, hoping it’s the same tentacled-beast they dealt with last week. She tries slicing its head off, only for her arm to get _stuck in it._

Nancy can’t make out anything in the dark. She has no idea what’s in front of her, just that it’s a blob-shaped monster that she’s got her arm stuck in. She pulls wildly, trying not to panic as it slowly sucks her in. “Jonathan! It has my arm!”

“I got you,” he grunts, grabbing her hand and pulling.

She tries kicking it, but her attempts are fruitless as her feet get stuck. Breathe, Nancy, she tells herself automatically. That only makes her want to laugh, terribly. The one soothing thing she can think of doing is the one thing she can’t.

Of course.

She focuses on Jonathan’s attempts at pulling her out of the monster. She imagines his eyes screwed shut as he uses all of his super-strength.

“What the _fuck!?_ I keep pulling, but—”

The idea hits her. It’s stupid, but most of their ideas are. “Let go.”

“What, no, Nancy I’m not—”

“You trust me.” It’s a fact, not a question. “Let go,” she repeats, trying to sound sure of herself to reassure Jonathan.

She regrets it immediately. With the absence of his warm hand comes her panic once more. She reminds herself that their ideas usually work. She’s come this far. This is not how she dies.

Sure enough, once she’s fully rigid, she’s not sucked in any further. Its growling stops. She’s moving, though, lowering, almost as if—

“It’s … shrinking?” Jonathan says in disbelief.

Nancy waits to move until she’s lowered to the ground. She’ll have to wash her hair _again_ to get the dirt out. “I don’t understand.” She watches the monster continue to shrink into a red cube that could easily be mistaken for jello.

“I mean, okay?” Jonathan tears a branch off a tree. He whacks the cube repeatedly until it’s scattered into pieces.

Nancy wordlessly scoops it up into her hands. “Let’s burn it?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, pulling a leaf out of her hair.

A thought occurs to her. She breaks into laughter. It’s the middle of the night. She went out for a meal consisting of blood, since she needs it periodically to live. Before she could have sex in the woods with her immortal boyfriend, a round, jello-like monster tried sucking her into itself.

But that’s not what’s making her laugh.

Jonathan continues picking at her hair. He pulls a twig out with a confused smile. “What?”

“Steve’s going to be pissed!”

.

.

.

“Seriously!? You guys found a monster while fucking in the woods, for whatever reason. God, your kinks are so weird.”

“Why don’t you believe that we went stargazing?” Jonathan huffs. He shoves his straw into his juicebox.

“No one actually goes stargazing. Besides, you’re blushing too much to have gone stargazing.” Steve reaches out to poke the flush in Jonathan’s cheeks.

Jonathan nearly drops his juicebox in an attempt to duck. “Am not.” He elbows Steve, the corners of his mouth raising into a slight smile.

Nancy hops off of Steve’s car to join them on the ground. She leans against the same tree that they’re leaning on. “It wasn’t even that dangerous, Steve.”

Jonathan cranes his head to shoot her an indignant look. “It almost sucked you in. Who _knows_ where it would’ve taken you?”

“Yeah, sure, but for a second there, when it was shrinking, it felt kind of good.”

“Weird kink, but—”

“We don’t have weird kinks,” Jonathan groans into his hands.

“You have reasonable kinks?”

Nancy extends her leg to foot Steve’s thigh. “Why are you so obsessed with our sex lives?”

Steve is noticeably silent for a few moments.

Jonathan smirks.

“I am interested in you both,” Steve finally says, averting their gazes. “You two are the only new people I’ve seen in this town, you’ve dealt with monsters before, you saved my life, you guys are just unbelievably fascinating. And then there’s your wild sex life.”

Jonathan snorts. “You said you’re pretty sure I cry after sex. What part of that screams _wild_ to you?”

“I mean, well, do you want me to go into detail about that?”

“I don’t know why you think I would,” Jonathan says.

She doesn’t mean to interrupt them, but it comes out of her mouth as impulsively as the idea came to her. “Let’s go swimming.”

Steve cheers, shifting until he’s sitting in front of Jonathan and Nancy. “Yes, finally!”

“You don’t have to,” Nancy says to Jonathan.

“No, it’s okay, I will.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “But when I ask—”

“You’re you. There’s a difference,” he responds, his smile sharpening.

Steve pretends to gasp as he foots Jonathan’s thigh. “As in you like me more? Sorry, Nance, I know it’s been a week, but I’m _that_ —”

“Insufferable, huh?” Nancy grins. She sits straighter and cranes her head to see his reaction.

Jonathan laughs into her neck. She’s warm all over as Steve’s eyes widen, genuinely shocked.

“What did I do or say to _warrant_ that?”

“You can’t rip me off like that.” Jonathan’s trying to sound serious, but his chuckle works against him.

“Did you copyright those string of words? Did you?”

She hasn’t been to the lake in ages. She and Barb used to come out here, sit on the pier, dip their toes in, and talk about everything with sunlight framing their faces. She can practically see Barb swinging her legs from the pier, droplets of water on her glasses. She blinks, hard, trying to get the image out of her head. The memory is sharp and hurts. It only makes her more determined to enjoy herself.

She nearly trips while stepping out of her shorts when Jonathan starts unbuckling his pants. “You’re taking them off?”

Jonathan blinks down at her. “Should I not?”

“No!” Nancy laughs awkwardly as she ties her hair into a half-assed bun. “I mean, do whatever you want, I’m chill.”

“Horndog,” Steve whisper-shouts. He balls his shirt up and drops it behind him.

“Do you know how lame you sound?” She wonders if Steve can see right through her narrowed eyes and raised eyebrow. If he can tell that she’s hyper-aware of his bare skin. If he notices how hard she’s trying not to stare.

“I’m not the one thirsting over Jonathan over here,” Steve teases in a low voice that makes Nancy squirm. “Not that I blame you.”

She stands taller, raising her chin to meet his eyes. “You keep flirting with my boyfriend. Something you want to say?”

Steve looks, for a moment, genuinely confused. “Flirting? I’m not—I’m just talking. It’s not, I mean, _I’m_ not—”

Jonathan clears his throat. “Can I have your phone for a second?”

“Uh, sure,” Steve says. He furrows his eyebrows while reaching into his pockets to give Jonathan his phone. “Why—you dick!”

Nancy gasps, clapping a hand over her mouth. She watches Steve break into laughter as he’s pushed into the water.

Jonathan turns to her. She steps back instinctively. “Want me to push you in?”

She scoffs, her grin so wide it hurts. “Want to die?”

“Kind of too late for that,” he teases. He sets Steve’s phone down by his shirt and the rest of their discarded clothes. There’s a lightness to him, electric and bright, that she rarely sees It’s kind of hot and extremely exciting. She wants more of it.

She wants more of this.

She takes another step back when Jonathan jumps in, Steve’s call of, “You asshole!” fading as he shrieks.

Nancy hugs her chest. She watches them laugh uncontrollably, splashing each other, getting soaked by the clear, blue water.

It’s not like her and Jonathan never did spontaneous things for fun. At some point, you stop caring when you have a seemingly infinite number of days ahead of you. She has fun with him everyday. From moments like making coffee, to staking out six-headed monsters, to stopping a road-trip in the middle of the night to go stargazing. (People actually stargaze, Steve.)

This is different somehow. She feels light, unstoppable. With Steve, they’re always pretending that they’re regular seventeen year-olds. It’s only now that she’s realizing she’s pretending with herself too.

But there’s something else. She can’t put her finger on it.

“NANCE! You coming in?”

Jonathan wears a slight smirk at her as he treads with ease. She didn’t know he could swim.

When she jumps in, she doesn’t close her eyes. She sees the exact moment the water breaks with her presence. Even underwater, she still keeps them open, seeing the lower halves of their bodies floating towards her.

She could stay here forever, underwater, sit at the bottom of the lake for all of time.

If she wanted to.

She rises to the surface, refreshed and ready to fight. “Alright, who’s ass am I—” She shrieks when _Jonathan_ splashes her with water, laughing as he keeps a safe distance away.

“Sorry,” he says, smiling like a shit-head, “we teamed up.”

“You seem very sorry!” is what she tries saying. She’s cut off when Steve manages to sneak behind her and splashes water onto her back. “You dick!” She shrieks.

Nancy doesn’t know how long they’ve spent in the lake before Steve raises his hands. “Uncle! I’m tired.”

“I thought cross country was good for your stamina?” Nancy teases. She hears Jonathan wade towards them. He rests his hand on her waist and she leans against him, kissing the sensitive spot on his neck like it’s muscle-memory.

Steve licks his lips. His mouth opens and for a few seconds, he’s quiet. “What can I say?” He scratches at the flush on his neck. “You two are something else.”

Afterwards, they lay out on the pier, skin wet and glistening, their eyes on the blue, expansive sky. “My best friend doesn’t think you guys exist,” Steve says.

“You told your best friend about us?” Jonathan sounds surprised.

Steve chuckles. “Of course I did. He didn’t understand why I was always out in the mornings. I didn’t tell him why we were hanging out, only that we are, but he thinks I’m pulling his leg.”

Nancy smiles, lifting her head to look at him. “Is this your way of asking us to meet him?”

Steve shrugs. He yawns, stretching an arm out. It nearly hits the top of Nancy’s hair, and when he’s finished, he lets it hang above their heads. “If you want.”

“The one who broke his arm and drew a dick all over his cast?” Jonathan recalls. “Knowingly going to school with a _dick_ on his cast?”

“That’s my best friend,” Steve says proudly, grinning. “Love that guy. And I mean, it’d be fun. You don’t know anyone else in town.”

“I don’t need to know anyone else,” Jonathan says uncomfortably. In his ears, it’s him just saying the truth. To their ears, it’s praise. 

Steve lowers his arm until it brushes the tops of their heads. “Oh. I mean, you don’t have to.”

Nancy tries to subtly nudge Jonathan, but he yelps. “What is it, Nancy?”

“I think it’d be cool to meet new people, don’t you?”

“If you want.” He he tilts his face to look at Steve, swallowing. “If you want too.”

Steve makes a pleased noise. “He’s like me, you’ll love him.”

“There’s two of you?” Jonathan teases.

“Better than that.”

Impossible, Nancy almost says. This is dangerous. It’s been only two weeks, and yet— “Sure, let’s meet your friend. That’d be nice. Whenever works. We have the time.” She says it absentmindedly. It’s true. They have all summer.

She doesn’t notice until Jonathan laughs into her hair. “I didn’t even,” she starts saying, giving up to welcome a surprised fit of laughter.

Steve smiles, but his eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“Inside joke,” she dismisses.

.

.

.

When they return to Jonathan’s house, he falls asleep the second his body hits his bed. Nancy adjusts him so the pillows rest underneath his head. She currently sits in the living room with Joyce, who is trying to learn how to knit. “Motherfucker,” she grumbles, throwing her orange ball of yarn onto the floor.

“Keep practicing,” Nancy says, bending down to pick up the yarn. “You’ll get the hang of it. You’re already getting better.”

Joyce smiles, hugging one of the throw pillows she has on the sofa to her chest. Jonathan’s grandmother made it. It’s one of Joyce’s favourite belongings. “You’re such a liar.”

“Fine then. You will get better.”

“Your optimism is endearing. Karen’s coming for breakfast tomorrow?”

“If that’s—”

“Nancy, of course it’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I just don’t want to impose. I’m already staying in your home.”

“You also came here when I broke my stupid hip. So many risks and yet.”

Nancy shrugs, tracing the edges of the pillow. “It was important to me.”

“I know, honey, and that means the world to me.”

“You know I—” She fiddles with her fingers and forces herself to look Joyce straight in the eye. “You know how much you mean to me, right?”

Joyce nods earnestly. She reaches forward for Nancy’s hands, but stops halfway. She scowls the as ball of yarn slips out of her grasp.

Nancy doesn’t let it touch the floor. She darts forward and has it back in Joyce’s grasp within a millisecond.

“Oh! Thank you.” She squeezes the ball of yarn as if to make sure it’s really in her hand. “That reminds me, I completely forgot to tell you, but we ran out of chamomile tea. It slipped my mind to get more when I went to the grocery mart this morning, I can—”

“I’ve got it. I can get it now myself.”

“Are you sure?”

She glances down the hall. She pictures Jonathan in their bed, curled up in a ball and drooling all over himself. It’s risky. He would tell her that, but then he would ask if she was sure, ask in a way that meant if she felt good about it, it was a good idea.

He backed her up after each and every stupid idea she had, and hey, they’re still standing.

Besides. It’s just a grocery store.

It’s twenty minutes to nine. She’ll pop in and out, probably make it before the store even closes.

“I’ll be okay,” she promises, pressing a kiss against Joyce’s hairline. She roots through her backpack by the front door. She grabs the first bill that she spots, a wrinkled ten, and sets off.

The entrance still creaks the same way it always did. It tugs at her heartstrings. It’s strangely comforting how lots of things have changed, but not this.

Their aisles are all different, so she gets a little lost. She can’t find any employees and the stubborn part of of her—which is all of her, really—doesn’t want to ask for help. It takes her seven minutes to find where the teas are.

She’s intently examining a packet of chamomile tea, trying to make sure it’s the _right_ one, when a voice sounds from behind her shoulder.

“Chamomile, huh? Good taste. My brother says it’s an abomination, but I always tell him the only abomination is him.”

The hairs on Nancy’s neck rise. She doesn’t recognize the woman’s voice, but her heart does.

After all these years, she still smells the same. Nancy didn’t think she remembered, but clearly, she does.

Freshly-cut grass, mint toothpaste, and, still carrying the scent even in adulthood, crayons.

She slowly turns around with the packet still clutched in her hand. She doesn’t know what she’s expecting. Long, dirty-blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and blue eyes identical to the one she’s seen in a mirror all her life match every photo her mother’s shown her.

The Chief’s uniform with a baby pawing at the badge throws her off, though.

“Um,” Nancy starts to say, unable to continue as though something lodged itself into her throat.

Holly’s friendly smile freezes. Her grip on the baby, her baby, Nancy’s fucking _niece,_ tightens. “Nancy?”

She’s not sure why this surprises her. Of course Holly has seen pictures of her, would know what she looks like.

She lets out a panicked laugh. “Who’s Nancy?”

Holly narrows her eyes. She drops her basket and points at Nancy’s necklace. “You’re wearing that necklace. Don’t you—don’t you think I’d notice the necklace my sister had in the only pictures I had of her?”

Nancy reaches out to pinch the ballerina slippers on her necklace. Looking at Holly hurts as much as it heals. This is the fantasy she never thought would happen in real life. This is her baby sister, all grown up. This is really happening.

And yet, Nancy can’t speak.

“Explain!” Holly demands, her voice shaking and her eyes watering. “ _What the hell!?”_

Nancy’s mind wanders momentarily. Her eyes lowers to the baby that keeps shifting in Holly’s arms, who has the same slab of blonde hair on her pudgy head that Holly did when she was that small. She has a million questions about the baby, about Holly’s uniform, about Holly.

Except she probably has a million questions to answer first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cliffhanger #1 of many to come.
> 
> okay, not that many, but still! i wonder if any of y'all saw that coming. 
> 
> a LOT happened here, so i hope it wasn't too much! 
> 
> lots of steve, who's adorable and routinely makes fun of their 'kinks', unaware that he's got the biggest kink of them all: one for vampires. he's smitten, jonathan and nancy are smitten, and so am i by all three of them and how in love they already are. 
> 
> nancy and joyce are THAT mother and daughter-in-law duo. also, nancy and jonathan going out to the woods to feed and then wanting to have sex only to get interrupted by a monster is like. Peak jancy in this fic. 
> 
> and HOLLY! the dynamic she has with nancy in this fic have a special place in my heart. nancy going "who's nancy?" to her baby sister who she, at this point, knows is the chief was my favourite thing. listen!!! nancy has had a long week.
> 
> so much happened this chapter, so i would love to know all of your thoughts and what you think will happen next! we've now met holly. i wonder who's left. :D 
> 
> see you guys next friday!


	3. Chapter 3

Nancy chose Holly’s name.

“Hold on,” Mike said, ten years old and already annoyed by everything. “Nancy gets to choose my name and now the baby’s name?”

“Maybe you can choose the next one,” Ted said, loudly flipping to the next page of his newspaper. Nancy couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. It’s not like he was the type of father who made jokes. He wasn’t the type to do anything at all, really.

Karen laughed, the sound high-pitched and strained. “You’re so _funny,_ Ted, so, so funny. Don’t worry, Mike. You can choose the names of your own kids.”

Mike slumped further in his seat, mixing his cereal in his milk with his spoon.

“I didn’t really choose your name,” Nancy said. “They gave me two options. I picked the least stupid one.”

“What was the other one?”

“Pascal,” Karen replied. “What? I enjoyed math in high school.”

“You named me _Mike_ instead of Pascal?”

Nancy balked. “Stop complaining, you would’ve hated your name!”

Mike pointed his spoon at Nancy, milk dripping onto the table. “So what boring name are you cursing our new sister with?”

She smiled tightly and kicked him underneath the table. “Holly. I don’t care if you hate it, because mom loves it, dad’s indifferent towards everything, and no one cares what you think, Pascal.”

Nancy and Mike helped a lot when Holly was born. It’s not like Karen couldn’t have handled it, already having seen two kids into adolescence. It was just that now, they were old enough to realize how their mom was the only one doing any of the work. They were old enough to do something about it.

Nancy named Holly, but Mike was Holly’s first word. “She keeps calling me Mick,” he groaned, only to instantly brighten when Holly started babbling at him, reaching her tiny hands out to his hair.

“Least she calls you something. The other day I thought she was going to get my name, but she was just struggling with the word no.”

Mike snorted out a laugh. He frowned when Holly crawled away from him and towards Nancy. Their mother was napping in the other room. They sat on the floor of Holly’s room, leaning against a pink wall. They were both exhausted from school and from the half hour they spent trying to keep up with Holly as she ran around the house.

Holly determinedly climbed on top of Nancy. She extended her hands out.

Nancy held Holly’s hands, but her little sister wrangled them free from Nancy’s grasp. She slouched, confused, until Holly grabbed the ballerina slippers dangling off her neck.

“Aren’t you worried she’ll break it?” Mike asked.

“No,” Nancy said softly, watching curiosity blossom on Holly’s face as she ran her fingers over the piece of jewellery. “But even if she did, I wouldn’t care.”

Now, Holly reaches out for the same necklace, only to withdraw her shaking hand.

“Attention shoppers, we are closing in fifteen minutes!” The squeaky voice over the intercom brings Nancy back to reality.

“I can explain,” Nancy says, watching Holly’s face intently. Would it be appropriate to tell her how much she looked like their mom? How she thought about her every single day, starting from the moment she left Hawkins? That she just wanted to keep her baby sister safe?

Instead, Nancy asks, “Cash register first?”

“Wait. I need to get my tea.”

She passes Holly a packet of chamomile with another packet in her hand. They walk towards the cash register, Holly easily balancing her baby with one hand and her cart with another. “There’s a diner we can go to. It’s fairly new. Do you want to grab coffee?”

Nancy has to admit: she’s incredibly impressed at how well Holly is handling this, her voice steady and controlled, not a drop of confusion or any emotion, really, on her face.

“I would like that.”

Holly offers to drive her. She promises Nancy that her car won’t be towed. Walking into the parking lot, watching Holly buckle up her baby in her carseat in the back, and shuffling into the front seat is all so surreal and strangely normal.

“You’re having a very muted reaction to this.” Nancy sits in the passenger seat.

Holly laughs bitterly, sliding into the front seat. “When I was sixteen, we had a camping trip, and I saw my bunkmate get killed by this—this two-headed monster. I saw it, but I was too late to do anything. I couldn’t tell anyone, because I couldn’t believe it and I didn’t think anyone would believe me. It was declared an animal attack. Trust me, I’m freaking out right now, but this isn’t as impossible for me as you would think. So what? Are you a vampire or something?”

“Um. Exactly, yes.”

“Have you killed anyone?”

“When I’ve needed to.”

“Is the sunlight thing true?”

“No. It’s a myth.”

“That’s why you left, right?” Holly squeezes the steering wheel, slowing down at a red light.

Nancy listens to her faint heartbeat, the exhaustion in her voice. “Yes. People were snooping around, investigating the disappearances, not buying that it was just a random thing. I couldn’t risk it. The Chief at the time, actually, helped me and the person I was turned with leave town, found us someone who could help us transition peacefully. I didn’t mean … I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I didn’t want to risk any of your lives. I didn’t want you guys to see me get taken away or have to see me like this. That’s why I left. Do you—do you remember me? Not as your older sister who left, but the one who was there?”

Holly’s child makes incoherent sounds in the backseat, clapping loudly. It drives in the absolute absurdity of the situation. Holly is an adult with a child and a career, a life she built all on her own. Nancy is her older sister and she looks nothing like it.

In fact, she looks and is, in a way, young enough to be Holly’s daughter.

Thankfully the thought doesn’t get the opportunity to fester, because Holly draws in a shaky breath and answers Nancy’s question.

“I do,” she confesses. She grips the steering wheel tightly. Nancy keeps getting surprised by her sister. Now, it’s primarily because of how well Holly’s driving considering their conversation and the fact that it’s dark outside. The stars are there but just barely. The streetlights cast a faint glow. But Holly drives smoothly, swallowing a few times before continuing. “I remember—I remember dad going to sleep earlier, mom crying a lot, Mike just angry, all the time. I remember being confused. No one would tell me where you went. I got mad, thinking they were all lying, not realizing that they really didn’t know. My turn.” Holly glances at Nancy. Her eyes twinkle in the moonlight, before focussing on the road as she drives ahead. “Do mom and Mike know?”

“Mom does. Mike doesn’t. I got lonely in the late eighties. I called her. She doesn’t really know what happened. She can probably guess, I mean, she knew how upset I was over my best friend’s disappearance—”

“Barb,” Holly fills in.

“Yeah, Barb.” Holly keeps throwing her off, but Nancy figures it goes both ways. She’s not complaining; she’s finally getting to see the person that her four year-old sister turned out to be. It’s strange and magical all at once. “I couldn’t bring myself to tell Mike _or_ you. I didn’t … I couldn’t handle you guys seeing me like this. My baby brother. My baby sister. You’re so big.” The last word breaks.

“Mom says I look like you,” Holly says with a shaky smile. “Sometimes she holds my face and tears up. I guess this puts that in a different context now.”

“Guess so.”

Within a few minutes, they reach their destination. The purple and pink lights in the diner’s sign flicker. A bell sounds above their heads when they step inside. Holly leads Nancy to a booth in the back.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, I’m okay. I only brought enough for the tea.”

“Nancy, stop being ridiculous.” Holly slides a menu in front of Nancy with the page opened to the drinks.

Semi-flustered, Nancy chooses the first thing that catches her eye, a chocolate milkshake.

Holly takes a few minutes to collect herself. She adjusts her child onto her lap, her eyes smiling down at her. She eventually orders a mango smoothie and a banana pudding for her daughter

“What’s her name?” She already knows this. She just can’t think of anything to say.

“Callie.” She tucks a stray, blonde hair away from Callie’s forehead. “We love her to death.”

“She’s adorable. Looks exactly like you.”

“Mom always says that.”

“How’s Mike?”

Holly twirls the straw in her smoothie, staring at the edge of their table. “I don’t know how to answer that. He’s kind of in and out of Hawkins. I have no idea what he’s doing, where he is right now. We don’t really talk.”

She’s never had a stronger urge to see her brother, to yank his curly hair, to tell him that things will always work out than in this moment. This is all news to her. “Is he okay?”

“He’s okay, but that’s about it. I know he doesn’t eat or sleep well. Definitely doesn’t drink enough water. We try to talk to him, but it’s hard. He’s a little closed-off. Difficult to talk to. He’s still him, the him that I know at least, but he’s distant. The only thing that keeps me from worrying too much is that he’s still really close with Lucas and Dustin.”

It’s like a weight that Nancy hadn’t even noticed has been lifted off her shoulders. “Thank God,” she says, holding back a sob of relief. “Do you have his number? Could you call him?”

“Sorry, no, but mom should. He’s been really messed up since, well, you know. It’s a lot at once.”

She should’ve seen him right when she came in, she shouldn’t have wasted all this time, she shouldn’t have left him, _God—_

“Are you okay, Nancy?”

She blinks, startled enough that nearly knocks her drink over. “I’m fine. A little worried, but I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always felt everything so deeply. I can’t imagine he’d ever stopped looking for Will.”

“Or you,” Holly says softly. She touches Nancy’s wrist. “He wouldn’t tell mom, which now makes me wish he did. He’s been looking for you and Will for years.”

“Oh,” doesn’t begin to capture the hurricane of emotions that hits her then, how her short, adorable, pimple-faced brother who she would routinely argue with, has been searching for her for probably most of his life, how she’s still on his mind, still on _Holly’s,_ who immediately recognized her necklace. “Oh” doesn’t scratch the surface, but it’s all Nancy’s got.

“I have to ask. Why are you here now? You didn’t come to dad’s funeral.”

“It wasn’t worth the risk.” Nancy claps a hand over her mouth as soon as she realizes what she’s said. “You’ve got to get it, right? You love him, because you have to, and that’s not how love’s supposed to be.”

Holly smiles bitterly. “I get it. But I don’t get what made this time different.”

“Jonathan, the person I was turned with, who I’ve been with since 1983, my—” Boyfriend feels over simplistic, the word not nearly enough to describe everything he is to her. “My person. Jonathan is my person. His mom had an accident, and it felt like enough time had passed. We didn’t plan on staying. We’ve been here for two weeks.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Life’s short.” She tries not to think about Steve’s cocky grin and fails miserably. So she lets in other thoughts too: ones of early breakfasts with her mother, trying not to laugh as Joyce swears at her yarn needles, and laying with Jonathan in his childhood bed. “For you guys at least.”

Holly snorts out a laugh, giggling until her cheeks turn red. “That’s not really funny, but honestly I think it’s seeing my older sister looking half my age. I have to laugh or I’m going to cry.”

Nancy frowns. She grabs Holly’s hands without a trace of hesitation. “No, no, Holly, why are you sad? What’s wrong?” She almost says that she’s sorry, that this is all her fault.

“Nancy,” Holly laughs wetly, wiping her eyes with one hand, using the other to squeeze Nancy’s hand. “Happy tears. They’re happy tears.”

.

.

.

“I want to meet Jonathan.”

“I want to meet your wife.”

“Out of town. Her sister had a baby and she’s a kindergarten teacher, so she’s spending the summer there. No excuse for Jonathan.”

“Fine. Maybe we can do a lunch with mom or something if you’re not too busy with the police department.”

“There _is_ a missing boy.”

Nancy perks up. “I heard about that. You think it has something to do with—” She makes a vague hand gesture. “Right?”

“Of course, but proving it is impossible, like finding out what happened.”

“Jonathan and I are trying to stop any other monsters. I’ll let you know if anything happens. I can tell you about what we’ve seen, but—”

Holly raises a hand to cover her yawn. “I would love to hear all about that, but I have a one year-old to put to bed, and then myself to put to bed. It’s been a wild night. I still think I’m dreaming.”

She leans across the passenger seat, wrapping her arms around Holly tightly, not wanting to let go. “It’s real.”

.

.

.

Nancy can hear Jonathan’s pacing as she speeds to the front door of the house.

He pushes the door open, pulling Nancy into his arms before she can get a word out. “I was so worried,” he says, his voice muffled in her neck.

She forgets about the tea. She lets it fall to the floor so she can wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face in his shoulder. “Sorry, sorry, _so_ sorry. But you’ll never believe what happened.”

“Are you okay?”

“More than okay. C’mon, I’ll make us tea.”

He doesn’t interrupt her, waits until she’s finished rambling, by which point he has finished his tea. “I’m so happy for you,” he says, smiling brightly the second she’s finished. “I just—that’s unbelievable. She’s the _Chief._ She has a child. You’re an aunt!”

“I’m an aunt! And it’s like, I heard her voice, and I got goosebumps, Jonathan. Goosebumps. It’s exactly how you’ll feel when you see Will.”

“You don’t have to say that. It’s okay, it is, I mean it’s not, but—” He cuts himself off when she raises her hand to cup his jaw, her other hand cradling the back of his head.

“We've got lots of time, and maybe he does too.”

His eyes shine. He brushes his mouth against hers in a quiet thanks. “Now, will you please tell me more about Holly?”

.

.

.

The next morning, Nancy fiddles with her necklace while waiting for Jonathan to finish his breakfast. “You’ll be okay with Steve, right?”

“Okay? We’re not going to attack each other without you. Shockingly, I don’t hate him.”

“Trust me, I know.” She smirks at the way Jonathan begins coughing on his cup of water.

He sets the cup behind him on the counter, his body relaxing. “You want to talk about this yet or no?”

A wave of ease passes at the casualty in his voice. “Do we _need_ to?” Nancy releases her grip on her necklace and presses her hand against his chest. Even after all this time, she still partly expects to feel his heartbeat underneath her palm. She doesn’t, obviously, but his hand covering hers is good enough.

“I mean … no, not really.” He falters, licking drops of water off his bottom lip. “He doesn’t have to know, right? It’s better that way.”

“It is. We don’t have to think so far ahead. Maybe it won’t be anything, maybe it will. It doesn’t have to be this huge thing. Right?”

“Right,” he agrees, his voice empty. He leans against the kitchen counter.

It’s okay, I don’t believe myself either, she thinks. She rests her head against his chest.

He kisses her forehead and she almost doesn’t want to go to her mother’s for breakfast.

But then Holly’s nervous smile and Callie’s babbling flicker like a light in the back of her mind. This is her chance to get some of what she’s lost back.

She’s not wasting it.

.

.

.

Being back in her old house, Holly taking the same seat she always would, their mother scolding them to eat breakfast, and Nancy being the one thing that, physically at least, hasn’t changed—it’s jarring, to say the least.

“You have no idea how happy I am,” Karen keeps saying.

Holly meets Nancy’s eyes and grins knowingly, like they’ve lived long enough together to have one of those _mom, am I right?_ moments. “Maybe if you’d told me earlier—”

“I told you, Nancy didn’t want me saying anything!”

“So you can tell everyone that I got my period, but not tell your two children that our sister didn’t abandon us, that she’s well, that she still cares? That she went through something traumatic and maybe needed us? This is exactly why I didn’t tell you that I got my promotion, but you know, the one time it’s something important—”

“Your promotion _is_ important!”

Nancy chuckles. She pokes at Karen’s oatmeal and carefully considers her next words. “Don’t get mad at her, please. I just … I didn’t want to face you guys after all that happened, all I’ve done. I didn’t want you guys to end up hurt because of what happened to me. It seemed easier. Not just for you two. It’s selfish that I tried to save myself from the pain. That I didn’t even give you the option of. That I ran without even saying goodbye. There aren’t any excuses. All I can say is that I’m sorry.” Her chest feels emptier and lighter at the same time. The only thing keeping her voice steady and her eyes from leaking are Holly, Karen, and Callie’s heartbeats. “We’ve got time now, right?”

Holly opens her mouth and quickly shuts it. She leans forward to touch Nancy’s shoulder and sends her a weak smile.

“Will you meet Michael now?” Karen’s voice is soft as she bounces Callie on her knee, beaming when Callie giggles profusely.

“Okay,” Nancy says firmly. She’s more nervous now than before. She knew that her and Will’s disappearance must have hurt him in unimaginable ways, but she never thought …

The nagging thought that this is all her fault shouts in the corner of her mind. Her chest tightens. Everything is maddeningly tight and suffocating.

She forces herself to focus on Holly’s pounding chest as Callie nearly hits her head on the corner of the dining table.

“Whoa there,” Holly laughs. The sound comes out high and squeaky, but it still quiets everything and brings Nancy back.

Holly holds Callie in her lap and angles her away from the table.

“You were even more hyperactive.” The words slip past Nancy’s mouth without her even realizing it. But of course she continues when Holly’s eyebrows shoot up, like she’s surprised that Nancy would remember that. “Always running around and moving. You never got tired.”

Karen hums the way she always does when she’s trying to contain her excitement. It’s one of Nancy’s favourite things about her mother, even if she wishes sometimes that Karen would let her happiness take form. “If it weren’t for Nancy and Mike, I would’ve never been able to keep up with you. So much energy.”

“It’s not a bad thing. This way, mom knew that Mike and I were getting our sixty minutes of exercise from day considering how often we had to chase you around.”

Holly smiles softly. “You’re welcome for the cardio,” she says through a mouthful of toast. “This one isn’t much different.”

Karen casts another fond look at Callie and gently cups her cheeks. “I’m telling you, Holly, she looks—”

“Exactly like me,” Holly finishes. “Nancy told me the same thing last night. Hey, Nancy? Do you want to hold her?” Holly holds out her wriggling child in front of Nancy. She doesn’t flinch when Callie’s hand waves and almost smacks her in the face.

Nancy’s shoulders relaxes and she wordlessly nods. She scoops her niece into her arms and fawns over her. “God, you’re adorable.”

Callie grows quiet in her grasp, watching Nancy with a piqued interest. Her pink lips part as she reaches out.

Nancy figures she’s going to yank on her hair, which she wouldn’t mind, except Callie doesn’t. Instead, she grabs the ballerina slippers hanging off of Nancy’s necklace.

It’s a moment that she will always hold close to her, pluck out when she needs a reminder to trek onwards, that if going back to Hawkins turns out to be a colossal mistake, then it would all be worth it for this.

Holly coos. Karen gives Nancy a knowing smile.

And Nancy just melts.

.

.

.

Their breakfast doesn’t last more than two hours. Holly has to leave to go to the station and Karen has a book club meeting.

“Wait, you’re in _book club?_ ” Nancy says disbelievingly. She finishes cleaning her last dish and sets it by the others waiting to dry. Turning around, she leans against the kitchen counter to grin at her mom. “I know you are technically a grandmother, but wow. You’re such a grandmother.”

Karen rolls her eyes and swings her bag over her arm. “You haven’t made fun of Joyce for this, so I have to say I’m a little offended.”

“You two go to the same book club?”

“Of course. Nancy, when the unspeakable happens to your child and there’s only one person who gets it, you hold onto that. You hold onto them. All those drives together to visit and phoning each other when you missed a call and we got worried … I don’t know about Joyce, but I consider her to be a good friend. I mean, we started the club together!”

Nancy has the sudden image of her mother and Joyce in matching sweaters, sharing recipes and discussing novels. “I’m really happy you have that. And book club.”

She blinks. Her hands pause halfway between retrieving her novel off the kitchen counter. “Is that a genuine, non-sarcastic response?”

“Oh my—”

“Has the day come that my teenage daughter—”

“I’m really not that bad, clearly not as bad as Mike who almost set the kitchen on fire five times, according to Holly.”

“Six,” Karen corrects nonchalantly. “And you’re right. You’re not that bad. Not that bad at all.” Her teasing smile falls as she throws her arms forward and pulls Nancy into a hug.

If it weren’t for her enhanced hearing, she would not have caught Karen’s barely audible sniff. Nancy’s throat goes dry. “Mom? What’s wrong?” She automatically wraps her arms around Karen, nestling her head against her shoulder. “ _Please talk to me._ ”

“Nancy I just … I know you left because you thought it was your only choice and that you wanted what was best for us, but this right here, this is what’s best for me. I’m not going to ask you to stay forever, because I know you have a life back with Murray, things you need to do that don’t involve Hawkins, and that it’s probably safer that way. I know it’s not fair to ask, so I won’t ask. But I need you to know that you’ll always have a place here. Your family loves you. _I_ love you.”

It’s difficult not to tear up when your mother’s sobbing into your hair. “I love you too,” she gets out. “And I know, okay? I know. I’m sorry for everyth—”

“You have _nothing_ to be sorry for.”

They stay tangled together for some time until Karen has to leave for her club meeting. Letting go of her mother isn’t as hard as Nancy expected, probably because for the first time, she knows with absolute certainty that she’ll see her again.

.

.

.

Nancy doesn’t want to back to the Byers’ home. It’s completely empty and she can’t stomach the silence right now. She needs life surrounding her. She needs laughter, warmth, and people.

She doesn’t even realize she’s speeding into the forest until she’s halfway there.

Jonathan and Steve will be there until three. Steve has plans with Tommy up until the dinner with _all_ four of them where they’ll meet Tommy for the first time. Jonathan planned on joining her afterwards at her mother’s.

A slight change in plans isn’t a bad thing, she reasons.

Nancy figures that they’re sitting on the hood of Jonathan’s car. Knees pressed together. Showing each other music. Passing a packet of cookies back and forth. Sharing a juicebox. Making harmless fun of each other with smiles that could light up the night.

She arrives at the forest within a minute. Steve’s heartbeat alerts her that they’re within the forest. She uses it as a guide to find them, forcing herself to walk and not speed to them.

She’s not only alarmed, but incredibly annoyed to see a large, dark green monster growling in between Jonathan and Steve. It’s spewing black sludge as its four tentacles reach out for them, two for each boy.

Of course the one day she misses is the day something actually happens.

Nancy nearly releases her fangs and throws herself at the monster until she remembers that Steve is here. _Fuck._

“Oh, hey, Nance!” Steve calls out. His heart is incredibly calm. “Look what you—” He ducks as a tentacle jerks forward, narrowly missing his head.

Her eyes scan the trees surrounding them. Teeth-shaped indents decorate the bark, the branches limply hanging off the side. Charcoal-coloured slime coat the dirt on the ground. “You could’ve called me!”

“This thing just came at us! And I don’t have a phone!” Jonathan shouts. The sight of him wielding a long branch as a weapon is even more ridiculous when she thinks of all the times he’s launched himself at a monster, his eyes glowing red, fangs out to wound, and super-strength getting the job done.

A tentacle starts for Nancy, but Jonathan whacks it, only for his branch to break in half.

The monster whirls around, obstructing Steve from their view. Its beady eyes stare into Nancy’s _soul._ It lets out a deafening growl and charges forward. This is it. She meets Jonathan’s eyes in her peripheral and with a slight nod, it’s agreed upon.

Like muscle memory, the two brace their legs apart. Bend slightly. Dot specks of red into their eyes. Clench their jaws. Release their fangs.

Even if Steve never talks to them after this, it’ll be okay. As long as he’s safe. As long as he’s okay, she repeats in her mind as one of the monster’s tentacle lunges for Jonathan.

Nancy’s eyes flash red. She swings her foot forward, ready to knock this monster across the woods. “Steve, run—”

The monster wails and folds in on itself. She can’t piece what’s wrong, until she counts only three tentacles.

“ _This_ is why you guys bring a weapon!” Steve yells over the distinct noise of the monster’s shrieking and its tentacle shriveling up by a bush. His bat, now covered in black slime, twirls in his hands.

The monster’s eyes flash. It whirls back around to Steve.

Steve, his heart now beating frantically, doesn’t falter. He straightens his back and raises his bat higher. “You want more!?”

“Holy shit,” Jonathan says, his voice dripping with awe. His eyes, now back to normal, widen.

“Jonathan!” Nancy picks up one half of Jonathan’s branch and tosses the other to him. “If we hit _hard_ enough, we can kill it,” she says, quietly enough so only Jonathan will hear. “Just make sure you don’t shift.  _HEY!_ ” She screams, directing the monster’s attention back to her. She doesn’t blink as it growls once more and makes a break for her. “Right here, asshole!”

But even with their super strength, the branch only knocks half of the tentacle off.

If they could just shift, this wouldn’t be a problem, she thinks, panicked.

Jonathan slices the other half off, but he breaks the branch once more in the process. “Why does that keep _happening!?_ ” He scowls with his hand clenched into a fist as though he’s seconds away from straight-up decking the monster.

“Don’t worry.” Steve runs past the monster until he’s standing next to them. “I’ve got this,” he pants. His heart pounds wildly in his chest. There’s no doubt that he’s horrified, but as soon as his eyes glaze over Nancy and Jonathan, he charges at the monster again.

Steve’s name rises in Nancy’s throat. She reaches out to pull him away from the monster and into their arms, but Jonathan yanks her backwards. “Nancy, _look._ He’s—he’s got it.”

Steve does. Him cutting the monster’s third tentacle catches it off guard. It crumples, wailing again, spinning aimlessly on the ground long enough for Steve to easily finish the job with its fourth tentacle.

“Fuck! I just did that!” Steve screams. His grin falls off his face as the monster dies with a final _fuck you,_ spewing black sludge over Steve’s clothes. “What the fuck.”

She takes in the sight of Steve with scrapes on his forehead, black sludge dripping from his clothes, and his dirty bat still clutched in his hands. She runs into him and flings her arms around his neck. “Steve,” she gasps, holding the back of his head.

Steve makes a small, surprised noise. After a few moments, he wraps his hands limply around her back. “Nance, I … are you both okay?”

“Are we okay?” She repeats disbelievingly, laughing. She inspects his face and brushes her thumb against his forehead. “Are you?”

“What do you mean? I’m fine.”

“Are you serious?” Jonathan laughs too. He draws closer and shoves his hands into his pockets. “You saved our lives,” he says softly.

Steve shrugs. He smiles, a small and shy thing, kicking at a piece of Jonathan’s branch on the ground. “You saved mine first.”

Nancy doesn’t bother waiting for Jonathan to awkwardly join them. She yanks on his wrist until he comes crashing into them.

(Later, she’ll call Holly and tell her that another monster was taken care, but she needs help disposing it.

Before that, they’ll drive Steve back to his house. Nancy will laugh about how she was always the one getting monster gunk all over her, but now the tables have turned. Jonathan will tease Steve about how the sludge could be a better hair gel. Steve will fire back about Jonathan using a branch as a weapon, and Nancy will join him, until Steve redirects his point back to her.

From the passenger seat, he’ll exclaim, “Now will you guys start bringing weapons!? Don’t laugh, I’m serious! If anything happens to you—”

“Nothing will. We’re a team,” she’ll say. “We’re in this together. We’ve got each other’s backs. Today’s proof of that.”

“I agree with all of that. We’ll bring weapons though,” Jonathan adds. “I still can’t believe the bat actually helped. How did you fight a literal monster with a _bat?_ ” And that’ll send them into another fit of laughter.)

Right now, Steve’s heartbeat thrums in her ears, Jonathan strokes their backs, and Nancy’s holding onto them, not planning on letting go anytime soon.

They’re getting monster goo all over themselves. She decides she’s too comfortable to care.

.

.

.

“You’re real!”

Nancy doesn’t need to look at Jonathan to know that he’s biting his lip to hide his awkwardly adorable smile. “Apparently so,” he says dryly. He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Told you there were two new people in Hawkins.” Steve claps Tommy’s back, beaming. The two sit across from Nancy and Jonathan in the booth of _Happy’s,_ a fast-food joint built when Nancy was in the eighth grade.

“Well forgive me for not believing something that’s about as likely as lightning striking.” Tommy is the complete opposite of what Nancy expected. He’s lanky and gangly with uneven strands of hair. He wears flip-flops despite being at the ice cream parlour. It’s not like he looks like a nerd; she vaguely understands how he’s popular, but there’s something so _boyish_ about him too.

Even though he’s kind of annoying. “Well, hi,” Tommy says, lowering his voice. He grins at Nancy and reaches out to shake her hand. “Ever been with a guy from the—”

Steve rolls his eyes. He slaps Tommy’s hand away. “First of all, relax, you and Carol had one fight, you’re not suddenly single. Second of all, her boyfriend’s right there!”

Nancy and Jonathan share a smirk.

“I’m sorry! It was a bad day, and Carol’s not returning my calls, and—” He trails off, explaining their fight using a lot of terminology like ’DM’ and ’left on read’ that she doesn’t quite grasp.

She starts tracing circles on Jonathan’s knee to pass the time. She lets Jonathan eat the nuts off her ice cream.

“What do you guys think?” Tommy asks, his voice coming out as a miserable groan.

“Apologize,” Nancy says automatically. She didn’t need to listen to his explanation of the fight to know the solution. “At the very least hear her out.”

Tommy nods, gaze flicking to Steve. “Stevie?”

“You call him Stevie?” Jonathan smiles genuinely. He twirls his fork in his empty bowl.

Steve elbows Tommy. “I call him Tommy.”

“But I feel like most people do. That’s how you introduced us to him,” Nancy points out.

“I still _call_ him Tommy. But … oh, fuck. I don't have a nickname for you, man!”

“Wait, Stevie, you do,” Tommy says. “You’ve got loads of ’em! Dick-head is your favourite.”

Nancy and Jonathan laugh. She nearly snorts when Steve scoffs, “I don’t call you a dick-head, dick-head.”

“I can give you a nickname if you want,” Steve says seriously to Jonathan, “… Johnny Boy!”

“I don’t want, I don’t, please—”

“Too late, Johnny Boy,” Tommy says, grinning.

Jonathan looks helplessly at Nancy who shrugs.“What, is there something on my face, Johnny Boy?”

This earns her a round of loud laughter from Tommy and Steve, Jonathan’s fond eye-roll, and a pair of old men throwing an irritated look at their table.

.

.

.

A week later, Steve is ironically the one who hears it first.

“Did you y’all hear that?”

“Y’all, did you really just say—”

“Jonathan, make fun of Steve later,” Nancy hisses, raising a finger to silence him. She lifts her head from his lap to concentrate better, shutting her eyes and hearing light footsteps from within the woods. “I’ve got it.”

“Whoa, wait—”

“Nance, we’re coming—”

She has to will herself not to speed right into the forest, toes curling in her shoes to _move,_ to do anything except pretend like she can’t instantly stop whatever’s lurking in the forest.

It becomes more of an issue when seemingly out of nowhere, a black ball of sludge crawls up Steve’s body. It expands, its arm—?—wrapping tightly around his neck.

“Um.” Steve gulps as the sludge expands over his body, covering everything except for his face.

“Don’t move.”

“Gee, thanks Johnny Boy, I didn’t think—”

“Shut the _fuck_ up,” Nancy snarls, trying to approach this situation in a way that doesn’t expose herself and won’t hurt Steve. They’ve never seen something like this before.

Jonathan runs a hand through his hair, jaw twitching and eyebrows pulled together. “If we try peeling it off, maybe it’ll just? Fall right off? How do you feel, Steve?”

“Strangely calm. It feels nice,” he says, frowning.

She cautiously reaches out to poke the sludge and shrieks when it launches out at her, expanding and pulling them together. “Oh. Fuck.”

Jonathan’s arms shoot out to grab them both, but he quickly retracts them. He steps back, worrying his lower lip in between his teeth.

“Hey, Steve?” Nancy strains her voice. She struggles to remain still and calm. “Ask it to stop.”

“What—”

“It latched onto you first,” she reasons. She tries not to shake as the creature’s grip tightens on Steve. “Ask it.”

“Give it a go, just please try it,” Jonathan says, worry creasing his forehead.

Steve unnecessarily clears his throat. “Hi, black thing, please get off me. We can chill, but not like this, and not bothering Nance over here. Sound good?”

This isn’t the stupidest idea they’ve ever had (she’s reminded of them hitting a werewolf with a stick), so she isn’t as shocked when it quickly releases hold of them. It folds itself back into a small blob and perched on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve smiles and tentatively pets its head. “Good thing.”

“We have to kill it.”

“Nance, no! It’s nice, look at it—”

“It could’ve _killed_ us.”

“That was a hug.”

“Steve,” Jonathan says tightly, “c’mon. I know you don’t want to, but we don’t know what it’s capable of. It’s the safest option.”

“Fine. Do I have to—”

“I’ve got it,” Jonathan interrupts.

Nancy touches his shoulder before he can grab the small monster off of Steve’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve got it.” His smile, somewhat strained but _real,_ reassures her. “I’ll get the lighter from my glove department. It’s okay. _We’re_ okay.”

Afterwards, they take Steve out to the same diner Holly took Nancy to two weeks before when they reunited.

Steve pushes his half-finished milkshake away from him. “I don’t even know why I’m upset. It probably would’ve killed me or either of you. Have you guys ever felt like that?”

“The monsters we kill have injured and murdered people,” Nancy says, “so not really, no. But feelings are weird. Embrace it.”

“There’s no wrong way to feel about this,” Jonathan adds. He gives Steve a tender smile and pushes the milkshake back to him.

Steve slumps in his seat, but nods. Their words seemed to have soothed his heart since it’s no longer beating erratically. His eyes linger on her and Jonathan’s interlocked fingers before he slurps his milkshake. “Yeah,” he agrees, “feelings are weird.”

.

.

.

They find the kid’s body.

Alexander Benson died of an unfortunate “animal attack” according to the news, a tragic, untimely demise for the seventeen year-old. A vigil will be held tonight in his memory.

“Do you think we should go? If it’s being recorded, put on TV,” Jonathan starts to say.

Nancy touches the small of his back, sensing his over-thinking before it sets in. “Best not to. We should check in on Steve though. He seemed pretty torn up over it, more than someone who didn’t really know him, you know? Determined, the same way we were. The same way we are.”

“Yeah, of course,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugs, shifting so he can wrap an arm around her waist. They hover by the foot his bed as Jonathan finally unpacks the rest of his things. “I don’t know, this is really similar to Barb’s death, I kind of assumed it would resurface bad memories.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t really thought about it, but now the idea is out there. “It’s okay. I’m fine. I try not to think about her anymore.”

Jonathan frowns, looking surprised. She doesn’t understand why since she doesn’t really talk about Barb, actively flinching in the sparse amount of times he’s brought her up over the many years. “How come?”

She slips away from his grasp, suddenly uncomfortable, and lays out on his bed. “I don’t know, it kind of makes it easier. Why bother when all I feel is every bad thing possible? She was killed, I couldn’t save her, I couldn’t save Will, I couldn’t even save myself. Don’t give me that look,” she says quietly, blinking furiously. “Don’t you ever wish you could forget sometimes?”

“I don’t. It hurts, but it reminds me that we’re here, stuck at seventeen, for a reason. It wasn’t worthless pain.”

“Wasn’t it? What, you think this torture, knowing everyone we love except for each other will _die,_ knowing we can’t get close to someone without picturing them in a casket, knowing that we can’t do any of the things we wanted like have a family or a stable community, that all of this means something? Pain is just pain. I’m not a better person for it. It’s not poetic, it’s not hopeful, it just hurts.”

She can’t see him through the blur in her eyes. She blinks hard to free her tears and let them roll down her cheeks. She hears him, though, the gentle choke in his sobs. “If that helps you,” she says, her voice cracking, “then I’m sorry. But it feels like lying to myself, saying that there’s a positive side to it. I love you. I do. You’re the only thing that makes the next few lifetimes seem worthy of living, but … but you’re the only thing.”

He rushes to her side in the blink of an eye, both melting into each other’s arms. “It’s not a good thing, I don’t want to seem like I … like I’m thankful for it or whatever, but it does help me, you know, that at least we died for something meaningful. That if I never know what happened to Will, that I know I literally died trying. I don’t know. I don’t have anything else, I don’t even have a sense of peace knowing that he’s somewhere better than here, but I have this.”

Nancy buries her face in his shoulder, her voice muffled when she says, “Say it. Say that we’ll find him. You never—you _never_ say it, so I feel like you don’t believe it.”

“I don’t want to say it, and for it not to be true.”

“Oh,” she says, slowly pulling away to look at Jonathan’s face. She’s not sure what to do with that. It’s strange that she’s known him longer than her parents even knew each other and yet there are still corners of his mind she hasn’t discovered. But that doesn’t horrify her. What does is that he’s been feeling this _intensely,_ the way he feels everything, and she either hasn’t noticed or he’s good at hiding it.

“If it’s not true, then we’ll deal with it.” The words cause bile to rise in her throat. If Barb had to die, then Will didn’t. End of story. She refuses to live in a world where they were both lost, stolen too early, where their search ended up with everyone dying. Nancy cups his face and presses her forehead against his. “We’re in this together, right?”

He closes his eyes like he can finally take a second to _be._ His shoulders slump and he tilts his face forward so their lips brush. “Together,” he whispers.

Everything in her life has been wrong—Barb dying before she truly got to live, her and Jonathan stuck at seventeen, Will still lost after too many years, having all this time but losing it from the years of her siblings’ lives missed. It’s all been wrong, but Jonathan and this one word have always been right.

.

.

.

August brings no updates on Alexander Benson, no new creatures, and no response from Mike in any capacity.

Regardless, Nancy and Jonathan remain in Hawkins.

Every Monday and Wednesday, Nancy has breakfast with her mother, sister, and niece while Jonathan plays chess with his mom. She has dinners with Holly on Thursday’s. The first Thursday of August is when she remembers that Holly wants to meet Jonathan.

“Are you serious?”

“Why would I be joking? You’re my—you’re my  _person,_ ” Nancy says, bewildered. “You don’t want to meet her?”

Jonathan kisses her frown away. He cups her jaw, soothing her instantly. “I’m surprised, is all. Do I need to wear a suit?”

“No, but I will be very happy and very turned on if you do.”

In the end, he doesn’t wear a suit. He dons his cleanest and newest pants (“Finally found one that hasn’t had blood or monster goo on it!”) and a flannel shirt. “Is this okay?” His voice shakes as he smooths a hand down his shirt.

“Perfect,” she insists. She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth and tries to contain the light spilling from her chest at the sheer domesticity of the evening.

Holly thankfully doesn’t bring up their vampirism at all. She makes small-talk that sounds genuine, asks about their relationship, about Murray, for stories, and exchanges some in return.

Everytime Holly mentions Mike, Nancy freezes and tries to escape the inevitable wave of guilt. She’s always missed him, always wondered and daydreamed about the life that the universe _owed him_ after everything, but this hurts on a deeper level. She needs to see him, needs to hold him, needs to tell him that he didn’t lose everything.

That would mean explaining herself, explaining why she never reached out, explaining how she couldn’t save his best friend or herself. But if she could just see him, proof that he’s at least here, then it would be worth it.

It’s a nice, quiet night. Jonathan holds Callie who takes to him immediately, smiling up at him when he does the same. Her heart aches at the sight.

In another universe, this would be _their_ child. Jonathan would be the type of dad who took too many pictures, carried their child everywhere, and gave in, all too easily, to their whims and wants. He would constantly show them old songs, never raise his voice, and always be there. He would love unconditionally and fully.

In another universe, she would be a PTA mom. She would defend her child (when fair) until her throat ached. She would not be patient—that would be Jonathan. She would listen, smash plates with them against a wall when they needed to, and braid or dye or cut their hair. She would put the bandaid on every scrape, cut, and small injury, and encourage them to not let pain stop them from doing what they wanted. She would love them with everything she had.

It’s a bittersweet thought, but she lets her imagination run wild.

She tells Jonathan this that night when she thinks he’s asleep. He turns over, swings an arm across her waist, and says, “I want that more than you know. I know it’s not going to get us that, but I want that life with you. You would be a scary mom, but in a good way.”

“You’d be the biggest pushover. Why are you acting surprised, as if you wouldn’t give Will the moon if you could—”

They spend hours talking about a completely hypothetical life, arguing over baby names and mortgage rates. There’s something cathartic about throwing every part of the life she wants out into the world, into Jonathan, and having him do the same thing too.

It hurts less than she expects.

When she falls asleep, her heart is nearly full.

.

.

.

Steve laughs with his entire body.

He has to stop whatever he’s doing to soak in the feeling of joy. He laughs at the stupidest of things, so it’s annoying when it makes Nancy chuckle.

For example, they discover one day, through Jonathan picking his juice-box from the ground, that he can’t reach his toes without bending his knees.

Steve finds this hilarious. He claims irony in the fact that Jonathan can kill monsters, but can’t _touch his toes._ That gets Nancy cracking up, because yeah, how the fuck is that possible? Jonathan’s semi-annoyed, she’s also annoyed, and the only one who isn’t is Steve.

“It’s not that funny,” Jonathan says, not because he’s truly upset, but because Steve’s still laughing. The corners of his mouth raise ever so slightly. He remains leaning against a tree, the three hanging out on the side of the empty road.

From their position perched on the hood of Jonathan’s car, Nancy elbows Steve. He falls onto the ground. “Oh my God, I’m so—”

“He just flopped over,” Jonathan remarks. “He’s not even … Steve, are you there, are you okay? Like. What the fuck?”

“I can touch your toes, Johnny Boy,” Steve says. He taps Jonathan’s shoes from his spot on the ground, dirt collecting in his hair.

Nancy sniffs. “You’re drunk.”

“Tipsy.”

“You’re still touching my toes.”

“Why am _I_ not allowed to have weird fetishes—”

“You’re attracted to my toes?”

“I like your personality too.”

Nancy stifles a laugh. She jumps off of Steve’s car and bends down to meet him eye-level. “Why are you day-drinking? It’s not even twelve.”

“I’m not as perfect as I seem.”

“You’re not perfect,” Jonathan says, joining Nancy on the ground.“And that’s okay.”

Steve lays his head on Jonathan’s foot and shuts his eyes. “You’re both so loud.”

She almost wants to tell him that his heartbeat is louder, but she doesn’t. She shoots Jonathan a concerned look, raising an eyebrow and mouthing, _now what?_

“How about we go for a drive?” Jonathan says softly, in a way that leaves Nancy with the impression that this is how he talked to Will.

Steve opens his eyes, nodding. “Yeah, okay.”

She knew he would say yes, agree to anything they asked, but the relief of it is immediate, like a weight off her back.

Nancy sits with Steve in the backseat. She freezes when Steve lays his head in her lap. It’s the smirk that Jonathan gives her from the front seat that loosens her up, lets her be comfortable as she sinks a hand into his hair.

“Give me a station,” Jonathan says.

A minute later, when Jonathan actually plays the station Steve requested, Steve gawks. “Just because I’m bummed, doesn’t mean you get to not be a dick about my music taste. It wouldn’t be you otherwise.”

“It really wouldn’t. This song is terrible, I’ve heard ten songs with the same melody in—”

“I regret saying all of that,” Steve groans. “If I tell you what’s wrong, will you stop?”

“Maybe. Better find out, huh?”

“He probably won’t,” Nancy says, “but we’re listening.”

Steve looks up at her. His eyes soften in an intimate, tender way that makes her all fuzzy inside. He looks at them like that often—like he needs a moment to cherish them, like he can’t believe they really exist. It’s both overwhelming and exhilarating from someone they’ve known for four weeks.

“I was a complete dick to Alex. It’s not like I _instigated_ anything, but I didn’t do anything to stop it either, y’know? Like we’d sit with him at his table, talking loudly just to get him flustered and embarrassed, shove him around, laugh at him in class. It was stupid, and he’s dead, and yet I’m not. If you hadn’t been there that day in the woods, then … I’m not going to do anything stupid. But it’s not fair that I’m still standing and he’s not.”

Tears spill from her eyes before she can help herself. She’s a fraud if she consoles him, like his sentiment of guilt hasn’t replayed in her mind, over and over, repeatedly throughout the years.

She wants to touch Jonathan, but he’s too far, noticeably quiet with his shoulders up to his ears.

“Steve.” Nancy takes his hand into hers. It’s larger than Jonathan’s, softer too, but fits perfectly. When his thumb brushes against her scar, his heartbeat a pleasant lull in ears, she takes a moment to cherish him. “You’re alive, so be alive. You have chances, everyday, to make up for it. You can’t change what happened, but you can decide what happens next.”

“What’s the plan, then?” Jonathan pipes up.

Steve stares at their entwined hands almost disbelievingly, before answering, “Kill anything else that endangers Hawkins. Beat Tommy in a game of basketball for once. Hopefully see a lot of you guys the rest of this summer.”

 _Be careful, Nancy, you’re falling too fast_ — “Well, we can help you with the first and last items on that list,” she says easily. She ignores the voice in her head without much effort. Just because she’s falling doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy the ride.

Jonathan turns the volume up. Steve tells Jonathan he can play a “shitty song” if he wants. Nancy asks Jonathan to lower the windows.

She soaks in the sensation of wind blowing in her hair, of Steve’s hand in hers, and Jonathan rambling on in defence of his music taste.

.

.

.

Nancy, Jonathan, and Joyce are curled up in their living room, watching a rom-com from the 2010’s per Joyce’s request when she asks, “Not that I mind, but why are you two still here? I figured, you know, you would go back to solving supernatural crimes and verbally fighting Murray.”

“We like it here,” Jonathan says, “it’s good to be home.”

“I have my sister, my mother, my _other_ mother,” Nancy says, grinning when Joyce lights up, “my niece, and—and yeah.”

Joyce doesn’t look convinced, but nods.

Jonathan sends Nancy a soft, smitten smile.

She ducks her head. They’re too old to be indulging in something so silly, but hey—she’s still seventeen.

.

.

.

Karen says that Mike plans on coming to visit “soon”.

“When is soon!?” Nancy exclaims through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. She winces when a piece flies out of her mouth and lands on her niece’s eyebrow.

“Your brother doesn’t like details,” Karen sighs, wiping Callie’s forehead. “Nor does he like pictures, stability, calling his _mother_ —”

“Mom,” Holly interjects, a speck of warning in her voice. “Come on.”

“I know, Holly, but it’s been so long! I can handle the hair, I can handle the job instability, but not talking to us, getting back to my voicemails or texts weeks later or even never … it’s worrisome. I get to be worried.”

“I’m not saying you can’t—”

“Go easy on him,” Nancy says, “he’s been through hell and back.”

Karen smiles. She fiddles with her half-empty mug. “You’re right.”

Holly gawks, shaking her head. “How are you the better child when you’ve been gone for years?”

“I’m not the better—you’re the Chief! You have a child! Meanwhile, I have a garden that’s probably dead, because Murray is the worst. A face that will never change.”

“It’s a nice face,” her mother offers. “And don’t talk like that. I’m proud of all of you.”

She never expected to hear those words from her mom. Not that her mom is cold or has unreasonably high expectations, but because what accomplishments did Nancy have? She never got to finish high school. She never went to college. She never got to have an actual career or do anything that she ever wanted for herself. She never got to _grow up._

It could be something she just says to appease them, but Nancy can tell by Karen’s heartbeat that she means it. Nancy suddenly can’t stop smiling, even when Callie throws up and most of her vomit lands on Nancy’s lap.

.

.

.

During the third week of August, they’re back in Steve’s gigantic house.

“Parents are gone for the weekend,” Steve says flippantly. The stakeouts are starting to seem pointless, but they’re so embedded in their routine she can’t imagine not spending a few hours in the morning with Jonathan, Steve, and coffee. “You wanna come over?”

“Another three-people party?” Jonathan asks, smiling.

Steve bumps his arm against Jonathan’s. “Man, it’s always a party with you two,” he says, somehow managing to make it _not_ sound extremely uncool. “Are you in, Nance?”

She straightens at the sound of her nickname. Warmth blooms in her chest. “I have a price.”

“Anything,” he says automatically. That intimate, tender look flickers in his eyes again. It’s so pure that she believes him.

“I want to see baby pictures.”

“Yeah, sure. I was cuter as a baby than as I am right now. Can you believe it?”

“Not really,” Jonathan says, only to slap a hand over his mouth a beat later. “I didn’t—oh my God, you’re never letting this go—”

“You think I’m cute? That’s basically what you meant, right?” Steve’s heartbeat rings in her ears, pounding so hard she shakes her head as if that’ll get the sound out.

Jonathan lowers his head. He smiles sheepishly. “Sure. Yeah. I have eyes.”

“Miraculous observation.”

“Nancy thinks you’re cute too.”

“Jonathan, what the _fuck_ —”

“I panicked, okay, like the stick in Maine!”

“What stick in Maine—”

Nancy raises her leg and places it on top of Steve’s. “You get distracted so easily.”

“What do you—wait, let’s go back to that, please—”

A few hours later, long after their daily stakeout has ended, Jonathan and Nancy race out of the house to meet Steve at his place.

Joyce stops them by the door. “Have fun and be safe!” She leans forward to give Nancy a half-hug.

Jonathan makes an adorably confused face as he kisses Joyce’s cheek. “Safe? We’re going to a seventeen year old’s house. No monsters there.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Nancy widens her eyes. “ _Joyce!_ ”

Joyce raises her hands and steps back to let them pass through. “I didn’t say anything!”

 

 

 

When Nancy and Jonathan let themselves into Steve’s backyard, the first thing she notices is the music. The title of the song escapes her, but she knows it’s by _The Smiths._ Five seconds into their night, and she and Jonathan are already beaming.

“Hey!” Steve stands upright from a lawn-chair when he sees them. He runs a hand through his hair while his other hand clutches a Coke can. “Welcome to my backyard.”

“The grass is really green,” Nancy says, sinking into a lawn chair.

“Like your eyes.”

“My eyes are blue.”

“That’s also like saying someone’s eyes are like mud,” Jonathan quips. “What point are you trying to make aside from them being the same colour?”

“Jonathan?”

“Yes, Steve?”

“Shut up. Nance, I’m sorry.”

Nancy chuckles, making a pleased noise when Jonathan takes the space she saved for him in her seat.

Steve clears his throat. He drops onto the lawn chair next to them, causing some of his drink to slosh onto his jeans. “Cutest couple continues to be cute.”

“We’re not—”

Nancy frowns. “We’re _not?_ ”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ adorable.”

She’s not sure where the minutes go. Steve and Nancy share a bottle of alcohol, Jonathan drinks three juice boxes, they munch through three bags of chips, and then Jonathan’s asking them to go into Steve’s pool.

Nancy stares at him. “ _You_ want to swim?”

Jonathan shrugs. He taps his fingers against Nancy’s calf and she absentmindedly nudges her leg closer. “Why not? You’re only seventeen once.”

Nancy wants to laugh, she wants to cry, but she mostly wants to push Steve and Jonathan into the pool.

“Yeah, okay, I want to go in. Steve?”

She expects a sly response, not Steve’s stuttery, “Yes, sure, I would—that sounds good.”

When they decided to swim into the lake, Nancy felt reckless, rebellious, this light feeling in her chest. Now, the air is charged and electric. Maybe it has to do with the night sky and the glow it casts over them. Maybe it’s the way everything is a little fuzzy at nighttime. Maybe it’s because the pool is much smaller than the lake. But she doubts it. This time is different, and it has nothing to do with the sky or the pool; it has all to do with them.

She tries not to let her gaze linger on Steve as he takes his shirt off. Her heart flutters as she peels her top off, hyper-aware of how much skin she’s showing.

“Ready?”

Steve says this, but Nancy looks at Jonathan. He’s brighter than ever in the pale moonlight and the limited lighting in Steve’s backyard. “I’m ready,” Jonathan says.

Nancy nods in agreement. The water is a clear blue, glistening in front of them, but it’s not the most enticing thing here.

Butterflies swarm her chest and she lets them fly freely. Seventeen doesn’t come with a lot of perks. (She would know.) This feeling doesn’t make any of it worth it. She would happily give it up to turn even a day older. But she still holds onto it and soaks it up, because being seventeen sucks, but the simple and strange joy of _getting_ someone and being gotten in return doesn’t.

At the same moment, Jonathan and Nancy’s hands reach out for each other.

Before they can grab Steve’s hand, he screams, “Geronimo!” and plunges into the pool. Jonathan and Nancy follow suit and shriek when they hit the water.

Everything drags. Every moment seems slower. She kicks herself up and treads the way they taught her last time at the lake. She meets Steve and Jonathan by the corner of the pool. “How are Tommy and Carol?” She blurts out in an attempt to distract herself from how close they are and how close they aren’t.

Steve shakes his head, inadvertently splashing drops of water onto their faces. “On again. I’m losing track. Have you two ever broken up?”

“No,” Nancy says, “never. I can’t imagine us breaking up, ever.”

“Do you think you’ll get married?”

“Yes,” Jonathan answers, smiling nervously when Nancy grins at his reply. “One day. We have lots of time.”

“That we do,” Nancy says quietly. “What about you? Do you think you’d get married?”

Steve shrugs. He leans against the edge of the pool and casually drapes an arm over their shoulders. “Future’s a big question mark. Guess I’ll find out. I would want to, but—but it seems unreal sometimes. Forever’s a long time.”

“It’s not that long with the right person,” Nancy says tenderly, “and you’ll find someone who loves you. Who calls your jokes stupid but always laughs at them—”

“Who calls you out but thinks highly of you—” Jonathan continues. He’s always on the same page as her, always in tune.

“Who watches you with a quiet adoration like no one’s looking, like nothing else matters—” She can’t tell if she’s teasing Jonathan or confessing something to Steve. But the light in her chest is only getting brighter and brighter. She can’t possibly dim it now.

“Who makes fun of you while also thinking the world of you—”

Steve chuckles, the sound slightly strained. “That sounds kind of familiar, no?” His heartbeat is a nervous staccato, but he looks Jonathan, then her, straight in the eye.

Nancy doesn’t look away. “Maybe. You tell me.”

“I think you just told me, actually.”

“ _Shit,_ ” Jonathan swears. He turns around and climbs the ladder out of the pool “Nancy, did you hear that—”

She shuts her eyes to concentrate. Steve’s heartbeat and Jonathan’s tapping against the metallic ladder behind them were the only sounds she was paying attention to. She hears distant voices and her heart sinks. Footsteps inside the house. Clumsy people, men, knocking things over. Two people cursing and scolding each other, wondering why—

“They’re here for us,” she says numbly. “They’re wondering why we’re here and where we are.”

Steve whitens. He stays still as Nancy joins Jonathan in scrambling out of the pool and up to her feet. “Guys,” he whisper-shouts, “what did you hear, how do you know—”

“SHH!” they scowl.

“Steve,” Jonathan says, stepping into his pants. “Do you trust us?”

“Of course.”

Nancy could burst into tears right now, but she, Steve, and Jonathan, could possibly die in the next five minutes so that’s not an option. She gives herself a second to freeze, to panic, to agonize over what could go wrong and how many mistakes she’s made.

The second passes. She steels herself. She straightens her back and licks the back of her fangs. “Stay here. We’ll be back,” she promises, pulling her shirt over her head. “Don’t make a sound. Everything’s going to be okay. We’re not letting anything bad happen.”

She expects Steve to put up a fight. Her heart breaks when he can only nod, frozen in place, resigned to the inevitable mess waiting in his kitchen. “Okay. Please be safe.”

She grabs Jonathan’s hand like it’s a lifeline, knowing very well that someone could die tonight. Maybe them, maybe not, but it’s not going to end well. She can never see Steve again, not after risking his life like this. She can never _forgive_ herself for whatever will happen, but that’s not what she has to worry about most right now.

Jonathan squeezes her hand as they trek inside the house, following the sounds of the deep voices. It’s closer than she realizes. She’s hasn’t been this afraid or had this much to lose since 1983.

Last time, she had no idea what would happen.

This time, Nancy has a pretty clear picture.

“Dustin, I’m going to end your life if you break _one more thing_ —”

“There’s shit everywhere, like who keeps a glass apple by their landline, who has a fucking landline in this year—”

Or not.

Someone sighs. The two voices keep bickering. Nancy is more confused than anything as they continue their descent towards the kitchen.

“Nancy,” Jonathan says, “it’s them.”

She could never forget about her brother’s best friends. They made her feel like she had multiple younger brothers rather than one. It annoyed her until it didn’t, until all she wanted were those days back.

Relief bursts in Nancy’s chest, but her forehead remains creased. “Why are they here? Why—” She cuts herself off. There’s only one way to find out.

He nods tersely, dread darkening his features. For the first time in years, he looks older than he is, exhausted and missing what makes him an older brother.

They step into the kitchen at the same time together.

Nancy sighs, “What’re you two—” She doesn’t finish her sentence.

At first, it’s because Lucas and Dustin are visibly older, taller, and, most distinctively, _older than her._ It was like whiplash with Holly and now isn’t any different. Her brother’s best friends were practically babies when she last saw them.

They’re both wearing black. Dustin’s hair is a little long, his eyes wide and slightly horrified. He’s holding a gun, she realizes blankly, and so is Lucas.

“I knew it,” Lucas says, his mouth hung open. “Mike—”

She sees him then. Time, like it has since 1983, stops. She should be used to that by now, but in all fairness, it’s different this time around. She’s had years to get used to time not moving for her, but not much to prepare her for seeing her younger sibling looking not just decades older, but decades older than her.

Like with Holly, looking at Mike breaks her heart just as much as it mends it.

Only now does she register his scent, the panic of intruders having clouded her mind and delayed her response to her senses. He smells different, but the underlying scent of pine and coconut shampoo remain. It’s him. She would recognize him anywhere, especially his hair which has only gotten longer and slightly greyed. He’s donning all black like Lucas and Dustin, his shirt faded and slightly torn up. His exhaustion seems bone-deep, judging from the heavy lines underneath his eyes, how hurt he sounds when he croaks out, “Nancy?”

“Why is there a child behind you?” Dustin asks.

“Why is he holding a bat?” Lucas looks alarmed. Judging by his slightly narrowed eyes and relaxed stature, his worry isn’t for himself.

“ _Steve,_ ” Jonathan says, frightened, “We told you to—”

Though Nancy isn’t looking at Steve (it would be impossible to unglue her eyes from Mike), she can picture him clearly with his knees slightly bent and his spike-covered bat raised in his hands. “Like I was going to listen. Are you two okay!? Who the fuck are these old—”

“We’re not _old,_ ” Dustin huffs.

“Dude, you have grey hair.”

“Why are you at the Harrington’s house?” Mike asks. He hasn’t looked away from her either.

Neither sibling have stepped towards each other. If she touches him, this dream could very well end. “Why are you?”

“Holly told me earlier today. About you guys.” He clenches his jaw. “We kept an eye at Mrs. Byers’ house, and when we saw a new car we hadn’t seen before, we figured it was yours. We bugged it.”

“You bugged Jonathan’s car?” Nancy crosses her arms over her chest, absolutely bewildered. “You know, a phone call would have sufficed. Why didn’t you visit me at mom’s or something instead of following us here!?”

Lucas, warily watching Steve who still has his bat raised, scratches the back of his neck. “These are the questions you’re asking each other? Not like there are other, more pressing things to talk about?”

“You guys are so big,” Jonathan says in awe, his voice cracking.

For the first time in a few minutes, Nancy looks at him. His eyes water, and she’s about to squeeze his hand until she spots his grin. He hugs himself as if to refrain from hugging them.

“You’re not,” Dustin says. He smiles somberly. “We kind of assumed what happened to Will also happened to you guys, but we could never find—”

Nancy waits for time to stop once more, almost demanding it. But it hasn’t agreed with her, not since 1983. Of course it won’t obey her one wish, of course it won’t give her a second to process this, and of course everything that proceeds this moment arrives in lightning speed.

Jonathan’s hand goes limp in hers. “What do you—what are you—Will? Is he—what do you mean?” He finally gets out, his voice shaking as badly as he is.

Steve steps forward. His bat clatters to the white tiled-floor. He gently touches Jonathan’s shoulder and reaches out to touch Nancy’s.

Through all of this, Nancy hasn’t moved a muscle. She stays still despite how soothing Steve’s touch is. She refuses to hope. She refuses to jump to conclusions. She refuses to let her mind wander to any possibility, good or bad, until someone explains what the _hell_ is going on. “Mike,” she says. She nearly cries; this is the first time in years that she’s said his name and he’s been there to respond, his brown eyes softening at the sound of her voice.

But now isn’t the time to sob, even if they are happy tears.

Jonathan is trembling, hope mixed with horror in his eyes.

Steve still has no idea what’s going on.

She’s the only one who can ask.

“What happened to Will?”

Mike, Lucas, and Dustin exchange confused looks. “Shit. You guys really don’t know,” Mike says slowly. “We only found out, like, two years ago, he says it’s not safe, he said he could never find you—”

The rest of his words drown out. It’s difficult to focus on anything when their picture-perfect summer with Steve has or will soon shatter, Will is officially alive and, on some level, okay, and her baby brother is standing a few feet away from her, old enough to be her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is literally the exact same cliffhanger as the last chapter and i! love! it! so! much!  
> before you keep reading: [here's a playlist i made for this au.](https://open.spotify.com/user/fulfillling/playlist/35gbjc9A2GnkN4M5HYxVDc?si=dwsjE8ccQreb0bOohLR32Q) it's long, but all of these songs remind me of this fic in some way.
> 
> i have many feelings about this chapter. so much happened. i really hope you liked the bonding between holly and nancy, and all the wheeler women, really. nancy really needed it.
> 
> we've got MONSTERS! the first monster scene was a last minute addition. i struggled with that one, so i'm not really pleased with how it turned out, but i wanted to see steve in action before we go further into the story. we got our update (and a name lmfao) on the missing kid and some Emotional stuff that i hope i handled well. jonathan, nancy, and steve continue to be sickeningly adorable while i continue to weep over their love.
> 
> am i missing anything? OH YES, WE'VE FINALLY MET THE KIDS! well, 3/6 of them, and they're not really kids anymore, but the rest are coming soon. will's alive! mike and nance reunited! dustin and lucas!!!! and stoncy got to SWIM again. i had so much fun writing that last scene and i think it shows lol. 
> 
> the next chapter will definitely be calmer and a much needed breather. it's up there as one of my favourite parts of this fic, so stay tuned for that. 
> 
> thank you for reading. your kudos/comments are truly the highlight of my day. come say hi on tumblr, @trulyalpha! until next friday (or late-night thursday, like in this case).


	4. Chapter 4

****“No one’s going to say anything?” Lucas says.

“Give me a second,” Mike snaps. He sighs and grips his chin-length hair with his hands. For the first time tonight, he tears his gaze away from Nancy. He looks at Lucas. “Sorry, I’m just—Nancy, what the fuck?”

Nancy sputters. Five minutes ago she was prepared to fight someone, people like or perhaps the very same government officials and scientists that prompted her to leave Hawkins. Instead the only person she’s fighting is her brother who she hasn’t seen in thirty-six years. Somehow, this feels worse.

She balls her hands into fists and struggles to keep her eyes blue. “What do you mean what the fuck? Do you—do you think I _wanted_ to leave you and everything behind?”

“This seems personal,” Steve mutters.

Dustin laughs. The sound comes out as a hoarse cough. He pulls a chair from Steve’s dining table back and plops onto it. “We might be here for awhile.” He pats the seat on his right and then the one on his left.

Lucas takes one. Steve begrudgingly takes the other.

“You could’ve called!” Mike stands taller and jags a finger at her. His shoulders have gone rigid. She has never seen him this genuinely livid, but she’s also never been this livid with him before.

Out of the millions of daydreams and fantasies she’s had for this very moment, arguing with him never crossed her mind. “And risk your life. Expose you to this mess. Hurt you when the last thing you needed was this. Seems like a fair trade.”

Mike braces his hands on the back of his head. He squeezes his eyes shut. “I could deal with the pain if I had at least known.”

“Maybe if you answered mom’s calls these past few weeks—”

“MOM knew before I did? In what universe do you open up to mom about things?”

“She’s my mother!”

“I’m your brother!”

“How is he Nance’s brother? He’s a billion years older than us.”

“Relax, kid,” Lucas yawns with his head on Dustin’s shoulder. “If you think that’s strange, just you wait and see.”

“So you’re fucking some kid—”

Nancy’s face screws up. It takes everything in her not to shove him, because while he’s taller and well into his forties, she’s stronger. But it’s difficult to care about that right now when all she can see is a blinding, hot red. “You don’t get to say it like that, as if I’m not still seventeen—”

“Instead of trying to find me? That’s all I’ve been doing! I’ve been looking for you for years, and what, you’ve been fine—”

“ _FINE!?_ Do you want the gory details, because I can give you—”

“Nancy.”

Jonathan’s hand on the small of her back instantly loosens her. It also alerts her that her eyes are glowing red. She traces the faint, dark-black lines underneath her eyes. She runs her tongue over the back of her teeth, never more repulsed by her fangs.

Mike has stepped back. He swallows heavily. Thumbing through a hole in his sleeve was a nervous habit he always had when he was younger. It’s strangely comforting to realize that he still has it, until it hits her that she’s the one provoking it.

Steve still stands behind her, oblivious to it all. But it won’t last any longer.

Mike trembles in front of her. She can’t will herself to see Dustin and Lucas’ reactions.

Mike’s heartbeat races, his face has paled even further, and his hands are raised out in front of him. Despite all of this, his voice is even as he says her name. “It’s okay,” he adds. “I’m okay. You’re okay. _We’re_ okay.”

Nancy holds onto this as she blinks. Going back, back to her blue eyes and to her regular, seventeen year-old face, is as easy as breathing. Well. As easy as she remembers it being.

Nancy tugs Jonathan’s hand into her own before he does it himself. Her eyes slip shut for a brief second so she can focus on Mike’s heartbeat. He’s okay and by some miracle, here, less than five feet away from her. She may have all the time in the world, but he doesn’t, and he’s already spent so much of it trying to find her. “I missed you, I thought about you always, and I’m sorry. Okay?”

Mike deflates. He takes a single step towards her. “Okay. I’m sorry for shouting. I missed you too. I never stopped looking.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Two steps is all it takes to bridge the space between them. Nancy throws her arms around Mike. He makes a startled noise, but soon nestles his head against her shoulder. He has gotten so much taller, but they fit. It’s the only thing that makes sense right now. She holds him tightly as though he’ll slip away if she lets him go for even a second. Everyone is either quiet or she can only pay attention to Mike.

Nothing else matters right now anyway. Nothing but Mike’s heartbeat, which has to be the most soothing noise in the entire world. “You’re forty-eight.” She cups the back of his head and threads her fingers through his coarse hair. It’s going to be okay, she wants to say. But if this moment means the same for Mike as it does for Nancy, then he already knows that.

“You’re fifty-three.” Mike laughs quietly. It makes her laugh wetly.

“I’m sorry, but what the hell is he talking about!? Johnny B— _Jonathan,_ Nance, come on, can someone—”

“Not to be rude,” Jonathan says, “but if no one tells me more about Will, I might lose my mind.”

Lucas clears his throat. He gestures to Steve with a strained smile and tucks his gun away. “Maybe we can make some tea and talk?”

.

.

.

The kitchen is suffocating. After the painfully awkward five minutes it takes to make everyone tea, they shuffle back into Steve’s backyard.

“Whatever you want, Nance,” Steve says. He watches the kids—adults?—follow Jonathan’s lead and step out of the sliding door leading into the backyard. Turning back to her, he slowly extends a hand out to her back and, when she lets herself lean into it, rubs her back comfortingly.

Steve still does it, after they step into his backyard.

She firmly ignores Mike’s scowl as they trail behind him, Dustin, and Lucas. She tries to ingrain the warmth of Steve’s large hand on her back, his melodic voice in her ear, and how quickly he sought out to comfort Jonathan all into her mind.

Nancy steals a glance of Jonathan on Steve’s other side. When Steve sends him an awkward _hey, is everything okay, I’m here_ kind of smile (it’s her favourite one), Jonathan ducks his head with a small, faint smile.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” she says against Steve’s shoulder.

“What? Don’t be. I don’t—I mean, I have no idea what’s going on, but I trust you,” Steve says so genuinely that Nancy wants to cry. “Everyone’s got baggage, right? You don’t have to tell me about it, if you don’t want to.”

“We will.” Jonathan drops his hand to his side. His fingers brush against Steve’s. “We’ll tell you everything after.”

Nancy forces herself to look away from their now-entwined hands. She knows he’s doing this because he doesn’t think he’ll get the chance to again.

It’s all going away soon. Too soon.

There would never be enough time. She’s always known this. But she thought they would at least get enough of it, that they could’ve at least had something, that maybe—

“You two were going to fuck him!”

Nancy startles out of her thoughts only to find Mike pointedly stepping on the pile of Steve and Jonathan’s discarded shirts by the edge of the pool.

Steve throws his hands in the air. “Okay, now you’re purposely being rude.”

Age has done nothing to make her younger brother any less annoying. Good to know. “Is this really what matters most right now?”

“The fact that I almost walked in on my sister having a threesome—”

“Mike, please.” Jonathan grimaces.

“Yes, Mike, please shut the fuck up. Don’t talk about Nancy like that!” Lucas huffs. He uses both hands to hold his mug while he lowers himself onto a lawn chair.

Nancy has to bite on her lip to keep from smiling. Everything has been and will be irrevocably changed, but she can find comfort in this.

Everyone takes a seat once Steve’s pulled out a few extra chairs from the garage. Nancy sits close to Mike. “Well.” She basks in the warmth radiating from her mug of tea, quite honestly needing it to continue speaking. “We’ll start first. We went looking for Will and Barb.”

“We figured that much,” Mike said, his voice gruff and low. “We went looking for Will too.”

“You _what!?_ ” Somehow, this never occurred to them. Sitting by Mike, Dustin, and Lucas after they broke into Steve’s house for Nancy and Jonathan with no idea of what to expect, she wonders how she didn’t figure that out on her own.

But there’s still something unsettling about a handful of twelve year-olds looking for their best friend. Dealing with monsters and death and too much loss. Nancy and Jonathan weren’t much older, still aren’t, but seventeen has got a few lifetimes on twelve. At least that’s what it always felt like back then.

“You cannot scold me for that. You literally can’t. Nancy, look at you, then look at me. Tell me who died.”

“Nance, seriously—”

“Wait,” Mike interrupts. “Keep going, what happened—”

“No, don’t keep going, explain what the fuck this tired man is saying—”

“I’m going to kill this kid—”

“Not when you broke all my mom’s China, you’re not—”

Nancy bursts. “Okay, fine, you want to know? Steve, we’re dead.”

Steve actually _snorts,_ his eyebrows quirked in confusion, head cocked to the side. “Nance,” he laughs, “what are you talking about?”

Jonathan has gone deathly pale. His lips part, but no sound leaves his throat. Lucas, Mike, and Dustin are all staring at patches of grass.

There’s no going back now.

Still. She doesn’t continue until Jonathan meekly nods at her, his hands covering his mouth as though the words _we’re dead_ slipped out of his throat. It breaks her heart.

And so will this.

“Jonathan and I died in 1983 trying to find his brother and my best friend, we’re vampires, no, we don’t go around killing innocent people, but we’ve had to kill people like us and monsters too. I’m so fucking tired, and I’m still seventeen, and I haven’t seen my baby brother since then. Mike is my brother, Lucas and Dustin are his best friends. Instead of calling me, they of course broke into your house instead. That should cover it. Oh, my best friend is dead, we had no idea what happened to Will, you know, Jonathan’s brother, until fifteen minutes ago, and—and we _killed_ the monsters who turned us and probably turned Will too. The Chief helped dispose of their corpses and helped send us out of Hawkins. This summer was the first time we’ve been back. Mirror thing is not true, neither is the sunlight, but the stake thing is, in case you were wondering—but that doesn’t really matter now. We’re sorry for all of this. For the mess, the harm. None of this was fake. No ulterior motives, nothing other than us—well. You know. It was all real. I promise.”

She collapses in her seat. She imagines herself back in Murray’s place. Curled up underneath the covers in Jonathan’s bedroom with his chest underneath her head. Reading one of Murray’s true-crime novels that she stole from his room.

This was supposed to be a week-long visit. None of this was supposed to happen.

But as her eyes meet Mike’s, him shooting her a small, shaky smile, it was ultimately worth it.

Steve’s jaw goes slack. He switches his gaze between Nancy and Jonathan, blinking hard. “I’m—I’m going to—just head into the kitchen. Give you—give you guys some space.” Despite this, he buries himself into the lawn chair and curls his long legs into his chest. He didn’t stutter like this all those weeks ago, when he ran into the first monster and they ran into him. “I’ll come back, I mean I have to, I live here, but don’t—I’m coming back.”

“Can we go with him—”

“No, Dustin, no you can’t!” Mike says indignantly.

“You’re going to start shouting at Nancy again, man.”

“I won’t! I won’t, Nancy, I swear.”

Steve rises to his feet. He looks back and forth between Nancy and Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet their eyes. His mouth opens and closes several times, before he shakes his head, gestures to inside the house, and walks off.

Nancy knows he’s coming back. Just not in the way she wants.

The sliding door closes with a click. She hears Steve crumple to the floor. After that, it hurts too badly to listen.

“I think Nancy covered everything,” Jonathan says morosely, “so your turn, please.”

Dustin, Lucas, and Mike take turns explaining. It all sums up to this: they went looking too, but they found something. Someone. Eleven, later discovered to be named Jane, who could move things with her mind, which they later learned was a result of scientists.

They were the same ones who released the vampires into Hawkins in the first place.

They started this mess to begin with.

They were part of the team scoping Hawkins that forced Nancy and Jonathan to leave. Under the guise of an investigation, it seemed like they were looking for ‘unexpected results’ from their experiment. That’s how Mike puts it at least.

“Like they knew about me and Nancy?” Jonathan asks.

“We think they didn’t know it was you two necessarily, but that they—they had a reason to believe that other people were affected,” Lucas answers. “Two of their vampires were killed. It made sense for them to think that. But it doesn’t seem like their investigation found anything else. Anyone else.”

Nancy’s stomach flips. They’re in the clear. They have been for years, thanks to all the help they’ve received, but it was close, and Brenner’s suspicions were entirely right.

There are still pieces missing. Nancy understands that the _why_ isn’t always as important as the what but it bothers her. It doesn’t help that Mike, Dustin, and Lucas don’t have many details. All that really matters is stopping this. The experiments. Turning people against their will. Releasing monsters into small towns for _science._ Playing with the unnatural like a toy.

No one has outright said it, but it doesn’t seem like they’re trying to understand vampires for the sake of understanding them. Murray assured them people like that didn’t really exist.

“Hunters aren’t really a thing,” he would say. “And scientists are about fifty years away from getting their heads out their asses long enough to realize how much of the world they aren’t seeing.”

“And when that fifty years is up?” Nancy would reply dryly. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere, not fifty years from now, not a hundred, not—you get the idea.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. No one’s smart enough.”

“The ones in Hawkins got us to leave.” Jonathan rarely piped up, but when he did, he always rendered Murray speechless.

A triumphant smirk flitted across Nancy’s mouth until she remembered the severity of the conversation’s topic.

A beat passed. “That was a precaution,” Murray said smoothly. “They were close, but that’s all they’ll ever be.”

“But if they actually got a vampire, then what?” Nancy pressed.

Murray shrugged. “You’re smart. Think about it. An immortal being that needs blood to live with super-hearing, super-smell, super-strength—what _would_ a scientist do with that?”

It sent a round of chills down her spine. She reached for Jonathan’s hand immediately. “Jesus,” she said. “I mean, I figured, but—”

“Don’t be worried. I’ve kept you safe long enough, and if there comes a time when I can’t, I’m not worried. You two have always been sharp. What’s a couple of frail nerds with scalpels and guns that wouldn’t do anything to you have against you, anyway? They can try all they want, but it’s a losing battle against any vampire, and absolutely hopeless for them when it comes to you two.”

Nancy knows with utmost certainty that the same memory is on loop in Jonathan’s head too. It helps, only barely when she thinks about how Will still hasn’t come home, but still. She’ll take what she can get.

“Brenner was the main one,” Mike explains. His lower lip curls in disgust. “He led the experiment on Jane and was basically behind what happened to Will and Barb too. He’s still out there. We have no idea where he is, but he’s nowhere near done with his work.”

None of this surprises Nancy. Regardless, she has a million questions, mostly about Eleven/Jane because the kids (adults?) disclaim that they don’t know much about the scientists. Questions like what happened to her, did the scientists look for and find her, but Mike cuts her off. “She’s safe and okay, still in Hawkins, still good friends with us, and I’ll explain later. I’ll do it soon, it’s just that there’s still more I need to tell you about the week before you two left.”

(Because Mike is full of shit, Nancy won’t find out what happened with Eleven for another few months, long after she meets her herself. But that’s for another day.)

That night, two vampires turned Nancy and Jonathan only to be killed by them.

According to these three, there were another two.

“You guys and Eleven killed two vampires,” Jonathan says.

Nancy can’t will herself to speak. They were children who staked two vampires because they were coming after their new friend, who _carried_ stakes to begin with the minute they thought vampires were involved from all the blood and dead animals with fang-like indents found in that week, who managed to cover it off as three kids fucking around and finding two dead bodies in the woods—who got to this point all because they were looking for Will.

Nancy has never doubted that Mike was her brother. Now, she never will.

Lucas shrugs. He sets his empty mug by his feet. “So did you.”

“You were _twelve._ ” Jonathan’s forehead creases and his eyes widen.

“They tried killing us and taking El! And you’re _still_ seventeen. Which one is weirder?” Dustin looks unfazed.

“The twelve thing! Obviously!”

“So this guy who’s been after Will,” Nancy says, “set these vampires into town? Why? Where did they get them from?”

Dustin’s eyes darken. “You guys know about the monsters in Hawkins? Not vampires, but actual monsters?”

“Yeah. That’s how we met Steve, on our way in. Some tentacle thing attacked him. Lots of what we did since then has been driving around the country, finding monsters and killing them. Why?” Nancy asks.

“There’s this thing called the Upside Down. It’s where these kind of monsters come from and a place that occasionally needs to be closed off, but we’ve got that. Brenner, the fucker who experimented on El, had been trying to get her to open up this portal and she did. We think he wanted to unleash something to experiment on and he got a bunch of vampires—”

“Wait,” she interrupts. “But we know for a fact that there are vampires here too. We haven’t met any, but we know a guy who has. Are you saying all vampires _come from here_ or—”

“They were trapped down there,” Mike says. “Will thinks the Upside Down and other portals like it across the world, like, gravitate towards supernatural creatures. Sucks ‘em in with monsters from it. Anyone can be attacked, but it just makes it likelier.”

Nancy meets Jonathan’s eyes. “We’ve never really had trouble finding monsters. It always felt like they came to us. But we’ve also never been dragged down there either.”

Lucas’s mouth cracks into a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘Cuz you could fight ‘em off. You were newborn vampires _and_ you were pissed off. Not everyone’s so lucky. Especially not if you’re a twelve year-old human.”

“What are you saying?” Jonathan’s voice breaks. “You said you recently found out he was still alive, does that mean he’s been there since—”

“No, no, no!” Dustin exclaims, waving his hands in front of him. “Lucas! Phrase your explanation better!”

“Sorry, man, sorry.” Lucas smiles weakly. He waits a few beats until Jonathan has sighed and leaned into his seat to continue. “He was there for a week. You remember, your mom didn’t believe for a second it was some random kidnapping. She was making noise about something suspicious at play. Brenner seemed to have figured out where Will was. He and his team got him out. Will was turned immediately. Will thinks that Brenner thought if he, a human, could survive the Upside Down, he’d be perfect to experiment on.”

“The ones who turned us, the ones we killed,” Nancy explains, “it’s all fuzzy now. They turned us and we just _lost it_ and, well, you know the rest. But before they killed us and told us—told us about Barb, showed us—” She shuts her eyes and pauses, attempting to regain her composure. “They knew Jonathan was Will’s brother. Made a comment, I can’t remember—”

“They said they were sorry about my brother. That he was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and someone took advantage of it. That no one would know what happened to him,” Jonathan recalls. “After that, everything they said stopped making sense and attacked us. Figures if they spent all that time in the Upside Down. It’s clear now, right? That guy, _Brenner,_ he turned Will? Or at least got those vampires to turn him. But how does he have all this control? He can’t be a vampire if he’s so hellbent on … on whatever the hell this is.”

“Especially if Will’s still hiding from him. He’s not a part of the government?” The puzzle pieces in her mind are starting to click into place, but there’s still so much missing.

Mike shakes his head. “Used to be part of the CIA. But he went rogue. I guess that’s a positive, right? If this was the entire government, we’d be fucked.”

“Reassuring,” she says wryly. “But I’ll take it. So Will was caught in the Upside Down for a week, Brenner got him out and got him turned … and then what? We killed two vampires from his experiment. You killed another two. What happened next?”

Mike, Dustin, and Lucas exchanged furtive looks, shifting in their seats. “This is where the details get fuzzy,” Lucas says. “We didn’t want to press Will too much, because it seemed, well, horrifying. But we know that Brenner had him for a few years—”

“ _Years_!?”

Nancy jumps to her feet. She crosses the one foot of distance between her and Jonathan to sit next to him. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I know this hurts, I know, but he’s okay now. Will’s okay. Try to focus on that.”

“We don’t know for sure if that’s what happened. We’ve never outright asked Will that.” Dustin sighs. “But yeah. It seems like it. It just … was all really bad. How about I jump ahead? Like, two years ago, the three of us were in Hawkins at the same time. Dustin and I come and go, Mike more sporadically than us. Sometimes we’re here at the same time, but there’s no pattern to it. We just decide together. You would have to keep track of us to know and that’s what Will was doing.”

“He was just there, in my apartment,” Mike says. “It was crazy. I can barely remember it, but Will explained it all in a rush, that people were coming after him, that he couldn’t risk us getting hurt, that he’s been running for years, that he’s getting closer and closer to coming home, and…” Mike pauses and lowers his voice. “Do you know about a cure?”

Time has stopped for Nancy for decades, but she’s never had a moment suspended in time like this. “For what?” She doesn’t believe the conclusions her mind jumps to. She doesn’t _want_ to in case she misheard him or he’s lying or—

“You’re not joking, are you?” Jonathan sounds young in a way he’s never been.

“When we saw him,” Dustin says slowly. He smiles like he’s about to change everything. Probably because he will. “He wasn’t twelve years old. He was in his early forties. He wasn’t by himself all these years. They’d been experimenting on him not just to see what a vampire could do, but if they could fix it. These scientists have been fucking shit up in so many places—they were going to ship him out of this lab set up somewhere, Will wouldn’t fucking tell us _where,_ but whatever. They wanted to see what would happen after a vampire was cured, continue with their monitoring and experiments, just somewhere else. He was with this girl, Kali—”

“That’s my niece’s name,” Nancy blurts out.

“What niece?”

“Holly has a daughter, what’re you—”

“She _had her_ already?”

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“Not to interrupt this lovely sibling moment,” Lucas says, “but like. Stop getting distracted. Pay attention. They had been planning an attack for weeks. Kali knew people, she offered him a refuge since they knew Brenner would come after them, and he took it. He didn’t have a lot of details on the cure, but clearly it worked.”

Nancy and Jonathan reach for each other at the same time. She wraps her arms around his back. She needs to be as close to him as possible. “We can have that life,” she says, her forehead pressed against his cheek.

It doesn’t seem real. Maybe it won’t be for a long time, but it _could_ be and the possibility alone is everything.

It won’t hit her until later, until the chaos of tonight has settled. But she’s already vibrating with something deeper than excitement, something deeper than joy—something more like peace. She never has and never will ask for a happy ending, because no one ever gets those. All she wanted was an _ending,_ the one thing that everyone is at least promised.

And here it is. The beginning of her end. The beginning of _their_ end. The beginning of the rest of their lives.

Time may finally move forward with them.

She may be getting ahead of herself, but the odds, at least right now, don’t scare her. She’s always had enough nerve. It won’t be easy, but that’s never stopped her before.

Nancy nestles her head against Jonathan’s shoulder, nuzzling his cheek. She can’t stop grinning. “Jonathan, _Jonathan,_ it’s possible. It could—it could actually happen.”

Jonathan gently pulls the arm she has tucked around him to kiss the back of her hand. He holds it close to his face and strokes her knuckles. “I can’t believe it. Any of it. Will—and we can—and you guys are _here—_ ”

“It’s been awhile.” Mike smiles. “I’m glad you’re here, Jonathan. We didn’t believe that shit about your mom sending you away. We knew you didn’t have any other family, that you would never leave your mom, but she wouldn’t budge.”

“Wait, my mom doesn’t _know?_ ”

“We promised Will, okay?” Dustin says morosely, his hands buried in his face. “I’m sorry. We didn’t want to, but—but when you see your best friend for the first time in almost forty years, you can’t say no. He doesn’t want to risk her safety. He says he’s still being looked for, and if they’re looking for him, then you two need to be careful.”

“I need to see him.”

“Jonathan,” Lucas says, “we can’t contact him. We’ve seen him a few times since then, but he won’t leave us a number, says it’s not safe. Your best bet is to stay here. Everyone thinks you two have fucked off to like the North Pole anyway. No one’s looking for you in Hawkins at least. You’ve been safe this long. That must be a good thing. We can stay. I mean, there’s no way we’re leaving after this. If anything happens, we’ll be prepared.”

“Holly, my mom, Joyce, will they be safe?”

“Nancy,” Mike says firmly, “nothing bad is going to happen again. I swear.”

Her mind is still reeling from everything, but Mike’s words ground her. “I believe you.” Her shoulders slump. She rests her head on Jonathan’s shoulder, smiling softly at Mike. “Now what?”

“Sleep, please. It’s been one hell of a night.” Lucas rubs his eyes. “I can’t imagine how either of you feel.”

“Infinitely times better,” Jonathan answers sincerely, “and that’s all thanks to you guys. We’re glad to see you too. I don’t know if you’re doing well or not, but I’m glad you’re friends and still...you.”

“What does that mean?” They chorus.

“Like. Breaking things and bugging my car instead of waiting by my mom’s house?”

“That would’ve been suspicious,” Dustin scoffs.

Nancy snorts. “You breaking into Steve’s house instead of directly coming to us isn’t suspicious whatsoever. Especially considering Lucas and Dustin have guns.”

“In our defence, we had no idea why you were here. We wanted to be safe in case you guys weren’t okay. We obviously didn’t realize you were chilling with that kid, Steve.” When Dustin says explains it like that, it does make some sense. Not a lot though. Definitely not enough for Nancy _not_ to still be annoyed with them all, especially Mike.

Mike tenses. He casually cracks a knuckle. “What’s up with Steve, anyways?”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “What’s up with your stupid fucking hair?”

“Dad liked it before he died.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Like you would know.”

“Tell me, Mike, if you didn’t have to go the funeral, would you have gone?”

“Nancy, you know I wouldn’t have visited him if I weren’t biologically obligated.”

She suddenly laughs, prompting him to do the same, and they’re giggling over their shit-head father as if no time has passed, as if they’re still kids watching their baby sister run around the house.

“We should probably leave.” Dustin yawns. “Steve probably wants us out after we did technically break into his house. And I might fall asleep on Lucas, he might fall asleep on me, and if we both fall asleep, then what? Mike, are you coming with us?”

“I think I might. Nancy, we’ll—”

“Talk tomorrow. Sleep. We have a confused, possibly pissed off person to talk to.” She smiles weakly, standing up.

There’s an awkward moment where she reaches out for a hug and he doesn’t. “Oh,” he says, while she says, “It’s fine.” They’re left staring at each other.

Mike picks at his torn shirt. “Can I hug you?”

“Yes.” She pulls him back into her arms. He sinks into her embrace, clinging onto her like he also can’t believe she’s here. She takes in his faint scent aftershave, the sound of his heart, and the relieved exhale he lets out in her hair. “I’m staying with Joyce. Come by. Or maybe we can see mom together tomorrow? I would like that. Holly’s already coming.”

“Sounds perfect. I mean it sounds like a disaster, but one I’ve been waiting for.”

“I’m sorry.”

“ _I’m_ sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted at you. I get why you left. And I’m—I’m sorry about Barb. I’ve never gotten to tell you that.”

Nancy’s hands slip to his shoulders. She expects to feel nauseous, but what comes to her instead are thoughts of stolen graduations, unpursued careers, grey hairs, and stupid things like taxes and bills. Barb deserved all of it. All the good, bad, and everything else—the tedious and mundane things in the middle— that came with growing up.

But Nancy often forgets that no matter what, she also deserved all of it. For awhile, it seemed like none of them, Jonathan and Will included, would have gotten it. Barb’s dead. Will was missing. Nancy and Jonathan were as close as it came to being dead without actually being so.

But that’s changed. Will is okay. Nancy and Jonathan are still seventeen, but one day, they might not be. It’s not a guarantee. It doesn’t look easy. But it’s a possibility, and that’s all she needs.

In that moment, Nancy swears she can hear Barb. If she just shuts her eyes, listens to Dustin and Lucas’ distant laughter and Mike’s breathing and remembers that Jonathan is _here,_ Barb’s voice is clear in her head. Clearer than it’s ever been in a nightmare, as clear as it was in real life.

_I’m dead, but you don’t have to be. Take your advice. Be alive, Nancy._

“I’m sorry too,” Nancy gets out finally. That’s all she can say. It feels like that’s all there is to say.

Mike’s throat bobs as he nods slowly. He looks to his right, where Dustin and Lucas are listening to Jonathan rattle on about Murray’s antics. Nancy knows Jonathan’s doing it so they can have this moment for themselves. She loves him for it. “You know it’s not your fault, right? You couldn’t have done anything. No one could’ve.”

“Yeah, but—” Nancy pauses. She hugs her chest and looks out at the pool. The water glistens the same way it had a few hours agos. It’s probably the one thing here that won’t change. “Knowing something isn’t the same as feeling it.” Barb’s voice replays in her head. “But I’ll get there, eventually. Thank you.”

“If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears. We've got time, right?”

She beams up at him. She’s semi-annoyed that he’s taller than her but figures that even if she wasn’t a vampire, she would still be shorter. “We do.” Warmth surges in her chest. She doesn’t hug him, even though she wants to, because she can do it tomorrow. She’ll have the opportunity to do it again. Right now, that feels better than the real thing.

They walk Lucas, Dustin, and Mike to the front door. Steve tags along when Mike, Dustin, and Lucas awkwardly return their mugs to the kitchen. On the way to the front door, they apologize for knocking several things over.

Steve opens the door and watches them step outside. “Please don’t do that again.”

“The breaking into your house or breaking your mom’s stuff?” Dustin asks, wincing.

“Yes,” Steve says.

Nancy doesn’t look away from Mike until he smiles, just barely, and turns around. The three walk down the front porch and toward the car parked on the side of the road.

The second the door shuts, Nancy braces herself.

Steve doesn’t turn around right away. He drops his head against the door and exhales heavily. Weirdly enough, his heartbeat is normal. “Can we talk?”

They don’t go back to the backyard. They go into Steve’s living room and form a triangle on the floor with their knees pressed together. Steve places his bat by by his feet and keeps it within hands reach. When she sees him fiddle with the bat’s handle, she’s reminded of how he went into his kitchen even after they told him not to, how horrified he must have been but went in anyway with nothing but a _baseball_ bat.

It eases some of the tightness in Nancy’s chest.

“Do you have any questions?” Jonathan says formally with his hands clasped together.

“This was real? From the start?”

“Of course,” they answer.

Steve nods. “So that’s why Jonathan’s music taste is like _that?_ ”

“What do you mean like—”

“No, he’s just like that.” Nancy can’t help but smile when Jonathan chuckles at her half-joke.

Steve releases a deep breath. He claps. “Okay. So those are all my questions.”

Nancy laughs, but Steve’s deadpan expression doesn’t falter. She reaches out to touch Steve’s knee but stops halfway through. “You’re not seriously okay with this?”

“You don’t want me to be?”

“That’s not what I meant, but you’re processing this quickly and handling it really well.”

Steve shrugs. It’s not enough to hide the uptick in his heartbeat before it settles down again. “You guys were talking in my backyard for awhile. I had some time to process, I guess. It wasn’t like this was _that_ big of a shock. It kind of makes sense. You come in, you save my life, you’re monster hunters, you’re both _you,_ so of course you’re vampires.”

Nancy doesn’t know what to say to that. Even if his calmness freaks her out, she prefers it over the worst-case scenarios she refused to let herself think about in his backyard. Steve never wanting to see them again. Steve thinking that they’re monsters. Steve, afraid. She would have been able to handle anger, she thinks, but not fear.

“It’s okay if you’re upset, confused, or mad, or—whatever you’re feeling, we understand,” Jonathan says. “Especially if you don’t want to see us ever again. Feelings are weird, right?”

Nancy holds onto the memory of that hot, sticky day in Jonathan’s car and Steve’s head in her lap.“It’s okay, Steve. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever you want, it’s okay.”

Steve averts their gazes and stares at a hole in his sock. “I trust you,” he says finally. The corner of his mouth quirks. “If I die, then please kill me during sex. That would be the ideal way to go.”

“We would never,” Jonathan says solemnly. “Did you want us to go into detail about what happened? We’ll tell you whatever you want.”

“You’re Will Byers’ older brother, right?” He smiles softly when all Jonathan does is stare. “Make sense with the way you talked about him and his case is well-known. So you visiting your grandmother, that was your mom?”

“Yup.”

“And oh my God. Neither of you know what social media is.”

“We know, we just don’t care for it,” Nancy huffs. “Okay, yes, you’re right.”

“And you’re both in your fifties.”

“Technically. If it’s weird, we get it, but we died at—oh, you’re messing with us.” Jonathan blushes.

Silence floats in the air, but it’s not as thick as it was a few minutes earlier. It’s difficult to believe how easy all of this is, but everything about Steve has been easy from the beginning.

“No bullshit,” Nancy starts, “only honesty. Are you okay with this?”

“We can take it,” Jonathan adds.

The fluorescent lighting flickers above their heads. Steve grins without any sharpness behind it. “So if I said I didn’t want you both, you would be fine?”

“I meant like we wouldn’t die,” Jonathan laughs, so awkward, so boyish, so _him_ that she laughs, warm and fluttery all over.

“Is that true?”

Nancy meets Steve's eyes. When it hits her that he’s waiting for her to say something, she sends him a small smile. “We don't want you to get hurt. Your safety is the most important thing.”

Steve smiles warmly, tapping his baseball, courtesy of Nancy. “I can protect myself.”

“You shouldn't have come inside,” she huffs. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“It didn't matter in the end! It was your brother and his friends. But I would’ve been okay.”

Nancy makes a noise out of frustration. She rises up on her knees to grab Steve’s face, speaking over his startled grunt. “That’s not the point and you know it. We don't want you to get hurt. Not because of us, not _by_ us, not … not at all. We just want you to be okay.”

Steve raises his hands to cover the ones she has on his face. His index finger gently strokes her knuckle. “But I am! I will be,” he says, like he can control what will happen, like he’s the one who knows how little power you have over things like death and pain, not them. Like the risk is all worth it for this. For them.

“You can’t say that,” Jonathan says quietly.

Steve makes a frustrated sound before sighing. “I get it. You don’t want to hurt me or yourselves, this thing is temporary, but people always come and go. It’s a given. If we ran away from things that were going to end, life would be so _boring,_ and I know you’re going to have to leave, but you're here right now. I'm only thinking about right now.”

I want to be selfish, she thinks, observing Steve’s slow, tentative smile. His blush deepens when he looks at Jonathan’s half-smile.

Her brother’s voice telling her about a cure in the same breath as he tells them about Will is a miracle in itself. It’s proof of hope if she'll ever need it.

She almost tells Jonathan to get close, but like always, he's in tune with her. He drapes one hand over Steve’s thigh and the other on her back. “Right now. I like the sound of that.”

Steve melts. Despite the pounding in his chest, he laces his fingers with Jonathan’s. “And you, Nance?”

Nancy doesn't respond. She just grabs Steve’s face and kisses him instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy friday! 
> 
> this chapter was such a pain in the ass. we're getting into Plot territory and i need y'all to bear with me. brenner/the scientists aren't a Big Part of the story, but to get to the ending i want for nancy and jonathan (+steve) i need to set and do all of this. so while i don't think the brenner stuff is a strong part of this story, that's okay, because it's not a big thing that takes up the entire story. this will still focus on nancy, stoncy, and her getting her life back and getting to live after everything. reconnecting with her mother but mostly holly, mike, and the rest of her kids, finding a way to live with her guilt and then without it, and what comes out of hope when you have it for long enough. 
> 
> and i know that me saying "yeah this plot is weak and Sucks" is the equivalent of saying "i suck at summaries" but like. yeah. lmao. 
> 
> so while writing this was difficult, i still love it. it's shorter and unlike the rest of the chapters, takes place in one night. we've got: a vague, but still very real cure, mike and nancy going from I'm Going to Kill You to Fuck, I Missed You, the party still being /that/ friendship, steve Finding Out and pretty much going Okay, I Guess I Have A Vampire Kink now, and a kiss! 
> 
> not much more else to say except that i hope you liked it, that everyone's reactions were plausible, and that i would love to know what you think. until next friday!


	5. Chapter 5

****Steve doesn’t snore or drool.

At least he isn’t right now. Like Jonathan, Steve curls up to her and pulls her close, but unlike Jonathan, she ends up holding him. It’s ridiculous to act like Steve has, in his sleep, gotten Nancy’s arms to wrap around his waist and hug him to her chest, but this is what she’s convinced herself at eight in the morning.

Jonathan lays on Steve’s other side, an arm draped across Steve’s waist, his fingertips resting on her waist.

Nancy stays still to keep them all in place. They’re all touching each other, skin on skin on skin. In the quiet of the morning, she can watch them and just think. It’s a rare moment where everything is still. Last night doesn’t seem real, but it happened.

Everything—Mike, Will, Steve—feels like a dream.

But mostly this: a possible cure. An end to this. An end to needing blood. An end to drawing monsters and all the fighting. An end to being seventeen, finally.

And the beginning of everything. The life that was stolen from her could be hers again. If Brenner somehow found a cure, if it worked on Will, it could work on them.

But first, they’ll have to figure out to end this. How to finish what Will and Kali started. How to get the cure Brenner and his team created.

None of it will come easily, but that’s never stopped her.

When Barb went missing, she didn’t hesitate in finding out what happened. She was mortal and two people had gone missing, but that wasn’t enough to discourage her. That was before the supernatural abilities, the promise of healing and superhuman strength. She’s always had nerve to begin with.

She fought her way into this mess. She can fight her way out of it too.

“Are you staring at me?” Steve says drowsily. His voice is scratchy and she kind of loves it.

“Only at the back of your head.”

Steve rolls his head over to smile at her. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Nancy can’t help but laugh. She really hopes her smile doesn’t look as flustered as she feels. “Last night was a lot, huh?”

Steve snorts. He turns over to face her, tangling their legs underneath the cover. “Understatement.” His breath catches as he pushes a stray hair out of Nancy’s face. “It was bothering me.”

“You’re bothering me.”

“Yeah?”

“No.” She cups his face and leans her forehead against his. “Seriously though. Are you okay?”

“I should be asking _you_ this. That guy was your brother?”

“Yeah. My younger one. He was, is actually, Will’s best friend. I haven’t seen him since … yeah. I’m sorry he broke into your house.”

“It’s fine. He really didn’t like that you were at my house, did he?”

“No, he didn’t. But I don’t care. Not only did he _break_ in and break a bunch of your mom’s things, but he interrupted us. Jonathan and I were on a roll.”

Steve’s mouth cracks into a soft smile. “Oh yeah? Was that planned?”

“No. We’re just that good.”

“Yeah, you guys are.” Steve traces a line alongside her jaw. That tender look lights up his eyes. “I thought I’d been imagining it or something. I mean, you guys aren’t subtle—”

“Neither are you!”

“But then you were in my pool and everything was falling into place until it wasn’t but. But I’m good. I am. It’s impossible not to be happy when I have this, you know? You and Jonathan. Here. In my bed.”

“Are we your first?”

“Vampires? Yes.” Steve laughs when she laughs and elbows him. “Jonathan’s my first, um, you know. But I’ve dated here and there. Nothing real. Nothing that good. Nothing special enough that they could’ve been vampires and it wouldn’t have changed anything for me. Not even for a second. It honestly still feels like I’m dreaming.”

There’s that light in her chest again. “You’re not. But I can pinch you if you want to make sure.”

He leans down and she adjusts, biting her lip when he nuzzles her neck. “This is better.” His lips drag over her static pulse.

Nancy closes her eyes and tries to keep quiet. She relishes in the lazy, open-mouthed kisses he presses against her skin. “Agreed. Wait, look at me?”

She forces herself to take one second to appreciate his semi-pout before gently kissing him. “Haven’t changed your mind yet?”

“Nance,” he snorts. He trails a finger down her cheek, looking at her with a quiet awe. “If I didn’t bolt when you killed that thing that attacked me without blinking, I’m not bolting now. I’ve always had a self-preservation problem.”

“You can walk away whenever.”

“I won’t, but okay.”

“Steve,” she says, floundering for something to say. But she can’t come up with anything, so she drops her forehead against his and closes her eyes. _A cure,_ they had said last night. Maybe they aren’t doomed after all.

Minutes later, he murmurs, “I feel like I’m in a YA novel.”

“We’ll try not to disappoint. Give you a story worth millions and shitty spin-offs.”

“You could never disappoint me,” he says earnestly. “I was wondering … if you want to talk about _it_ with me or whatever. I know you have Jonathan, but offer still stands.”

“It’s a lot,” she warns. “So much.”

“More than that explanation yesterday?”

“An expansion of it. Thank you for the offer, but it’s okay. I don’t want to unload. It’s too soon. It’s … with Jonathan, I didn’t have to explain. He was with me through everything. I don’t know where I would start.”

Steve mulls this over. “Okay, then start with your friend.”

“Her name was Barb,” she says and doesn’t really stop talking, until Jonathan’s sleepy, scratchy voice interrupts her.

“It was a blue swimsuit. She burned the blue swimsuit.”

“No, it was red.”

“You’re arguing with yourself considering you told me it was blue.”

Nancy groans. She rolls over to lightly kick Jonathan’s thigh. “Go back to sleep.”

“Or don’t.” Steve turns his head and holds his breath when his face is an inch away from Jonathan’s.

Jonathan grins. He tips Steve’s chin up. “Don’t tell me you’re getting shy.”

“God, can I just shut you up?”

“So polite,” she teases, sliding her arm back to Steve’s waist. Butterflies crowd in her stomach as Jonathan and Steve meet in the middle for a kiss. She sits up to check the time. How is it already ten in the morning?

“Hey.” She grins when they pull apart, their mouths slightly red, hair even messier. “I’m gonna go. I need to see Mike, Holly, and my mom. This has been a long time coming.”

Steve kisses her palm. He’s not making it easy to leave.

Jonathan rolls out from underneath Steve’s blanket.

“No, you should stay.” She leans over Steve to press her mouth against Jonathan’s. He smiles against her and kisses her back earnestly, doing nothing to change how she wishes she could lie in here with them for the rest of the day. Of course she wants to see her family. Nothing could change that, but this is coming close. “I’ll be okay, promise. I can drive there myself. This way you can take care of his erection.”

“Why do you need to say it like that, Nance?”

She rolls her eyes. She kisses Steve firmly and slides her hand down his thigh.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” Steve says, his voice light. “Tease.”

Jonathan laughs and lowers himself back to Steve’s bed. “You have no idea.”

She reluctantly steps out of bed. “Get each other off and stop talking about me already.”

“Trust me.” Jonathan bites a mark that Nancy left on Steve’s neck yesterday and makes Steve moan. “We’ll be talking about you.”

.

.

.

When Mike shows up to their childhood house, Karen sobs immediately. She crushes him into her arms. He’s so tall that she only reaches his chest, where she buries her head and he holds her, wordlessly stroking her back.

“Mom.” Holly stands up from her seat at the dining table. “Come sit?”

“Mom,” Nancy tries, unable to stand up, unable to do anything except stare. “Please?”

The moments it take for Karen to disentangle herself from Mike and sit at the end of the table in the living room last years. Mike takes the remaining seat in between Holly and their mother.

Nancy struggles to think of something to say, so she goes with the first, stupid thing that pops in her mind. “Family reunion.”

Mike rolls his eyes but smiles. Holly chuckles, her serious, hard look letting up. Karen wetly laughs. Being near them, listening to their heartbeats, seeing them alive and okay and together with her fills Nancy with a sense of completion.

“I heard you had your baby,” Mike says through his hands covering his mouth, tired eyes glancing at Holly.

Holly clucks her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “Yup.”

“Can I see a picture?”

“Nope.”

“Holly,” Karen warns. She rubs her puffy eyes, still managing to look threatening.

Holly scowls. “What!? It’s not fair that you looked for one sister and forgot about the other.”

Nancy stiffens. What is it about Mike that has them shouting at him within minutes of seeing him?

“You didn’t tell me,” Mike says, gritting his teeth. “You never tell me anything. I heard about your promotion through mom.”

“I’m surprised you answered mom long enough for her to tell you!”

Nancy sinks into her chair. _Please be over, please, both of you, stop_ —

“Well, you got your favourite sister back, so I’m sure you’re happy.”

Mike gawks momentarily before he sets his jaw. “You’re _eight years younger_ than me, of course I felt closer to Nancy. That doesn’t mean I love you any less. Any different. I’m trying, okay? It’s been a weird—” He catches himself and sighs. “It’s been weird.”

Holly remains tense, her arms crossed over her chest, but her eyes soften. “Yeah, okay.”

“Neither of you are going to apologize?” Nancy says before she can help it.

“For what?” They say loudly, both looking confused.

“I mean,” she continues slowly, eyeing Karen for some backup. “Well, you know …”

But her mother just purses her lips. “Go on, Nancy,” Karen says, nodding to Holly and Mike tiredly. “These two are ridiculous, but they might listen to their older sister.”

“Ridiculous,” Holly repeats, shaking her head. She jags a finger at Mike. “Look at his hair. Look at him. When was the last time you used deodorant?”

“You’re mad I didn’t know about your daughter, so you go after my _odour?_ ” Mike’s face screws up. He pointedly pushes his hair behind his ear. “And I use deodorant! Don’t think I forgot about the six months you went without using deodorant when you were twelve. Yeah, _mom tells me things too!_ ”

“You do kind of smell, Mike,” Nancy admits. “Get a better deodorant.”

“Nancy!” Karen pushes her chair back to disapprovingly stare at all three of her children. “Stop insulting each other!”

“ _I_ haven’t insulted anyone!” Mike exclaims.

“Your hair is stupid,” Holly continues, ignoring Karen. “You aren’t in high school anymore.”

“Wait. You grew your hair out in high school and just never cut it? This is a phase that never ended?” Nancy’s about to demand someone show her photos before Mike interrupts her.

“It’s not really a phase if it was a result from …”

“Don’t you fucking say it,” Nancy snarls.

“… _Grief._ ” Mike stares her down, his eyebrows raised as if challenging her.

Nancy kicks him from underneath the table. “Do not use my death to justify your terrible decisions!” Truthfully, she actually likes the long hair, but this is his fault for bringing her death up.

Karen slumps in her seat. “His hair isn’t as terrible of a decision as his inability to call his mother. How does Nancy call me more often than you?”

“Mom,” Mike says, frowning. He immediately stands up and rushes to Karen’s side, crouching to place a hand on her back. “I … I didn’t … I mean. Look at me, right? You’ve got your golden children right here. I just figured you were fine with Holly, and now you’ve got Nancy, so.”

“ _Golden?_ ” Holly sounds incredulous. She clears her throat as everyone stares at her, her cheeks pinking. “We’re not better than you. I dropped out of college. Nancy didn’t even finish high school.”

Nancy makes an offended sound. “Um, because I _died_ —but Holly’s right. Mom loves all of her strange children equally. She’s got a lot to be proud of when it comes to you two.”

“And you,” Holly adds. She shoots Nancy a smile. “I mean, you’re like an exceptional monster hunter.”

“Monster—” Karen cuts herself off with a shaky laugh. She covers the hand Mike has on her back with her and squeezes lightly. “Never-mind. I’m not surprised. Nancy’s right. I love all of my strange children equally. I’m proud of all of you. All I want is this, okay? Us together. You three together. I can take the arguing. The bickering. The insulting Mike’s hair.”

“It’s up to my shoulders! It’s not even that long.”

“I like your hair, actually,” Nancy admits. She smiles bashfully.

“I just like making fun of you,” Holly says. “It’s really not that bad. You should let me braid it!”

“I will for a picture of my niece.”

“You don’t want to meet her?”

“Wait, can I!?”

“Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

“You seemed pissed off earlier!”

“I was! I’m honestly always pissed off at you though.”

Mike rises to his full height and laughs. “I can tell. I would love to meet her. Is she has hyperactive as you were?”

“Yes,” Nancy and Karen answer.

“Wait, Nancy met—”

“ _Nancy_ has been here for weeks!”

Nancy groans. She shoves her face into her hands. “Not this again. Both of you, shut—”

“Oh yes, that’s right, weeks of you not telling me about our older sister!” Mike shouts.

“I don’t have your new number! You changed it without telling me, remember? And I just found out about Nancy! _MOM_ is the one who’s known all this time.”

Mike and Holly snap their heads to glare at Karen, so it’s only natural that Nancy pulls her face out of her hands to look at her too. “Try shouting at me,” Karen says calmly. “I dare you.”

“We get to be upset, don’t we?” Mike puffs out a breath and returns to his seat, slouching. “I get why you didn’t tell us, mom. Nancy, I _get_ why you didn’t reach out either, but still. All those years of worrying. Mom got to know the truth, but we were left in the dark.” He doesn’t even sound bitter, his voice hollow and empty.

Holly fidgets with her fingers and stares down.“Knowing that you were, at the very least, okay wouldn’t have endangered us, right?”

A lump forms in Nancy’s throat. She forces herself to meet their eyes, to sit up and not run from this conversation. She’s done enough running to last a lifetime. “You both know why I did what I did, so I won’t bother repeating myself, but—but just know that I’m sorry. I can’t change what happened, but I’m here now. I’m going to make up for lost time. I don’t plan on leaving, not like—not like before. You’re not in the dark any longer.” A thought occurs to her. “I mean, at least with me. I have no idea what you two are keeping from each other.”

Mike scratches his neck. “So there may be a couple things, Holly …”

“What on _earth_ does Nancy know that I don’t!?”

Karen leaps out of her seat. “I’m going to get you all pie. You two.” She eyes Mike and Holly and points a finger between them. “No more secrets, you hear me? Michael, tell her whatever it is. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Yeah, neither do I.” Nancy stands up sharply. She claps Mike’s back. “She knows about the monsters in Hawkins, by the way.”

“You do!?”

“I’m the _Chief!_ Obviously!”

“Mons—oh my God!” Karen braces one hand on her hip and the other against her forehead. She screws her eyes shut. “What the hell have you three gotten into!?”

Nancy ignores the glare Mike sends her and rushes to her mother’s side. “Mom—”

“Just promise me that you three can protect yourself. Is this anything to worry about?”

“No,” they chorus.

“Promise me you’re safe.”

“Promise.”

“Promise me that I’m not going to _lose_ any of you.”

“Promise,” they echo with more certainty.

“No more secrets. Swear to me.”

Holly and Mike glance nervously at Nancy. “We promise,” Nancy answers. She nods, immensely satisfied when Mike lets out a sigh of relief and Holly’s shoulders sag.

Karen opens her eyes. Her arms drop to her side. “Okay.” She smiles brightly. “I’ll be back in five minutes. Get everything out in the open. And then we’ll have pie!”

Nancy joins her mother in the kitchen. She doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. With her super-hearing, it’s impossible to ignore the hushed whispers sent back and forth between Mike and Holly as he tries to tell her about the Upside Down and Will. She keeps interrupting him and he keeps interrupting her. Soon enough, Holly calls him a dick and tells him how happy he is that Will is okay in the same breath. They wrap their arms around each other in a fiercely tight hug.

Karen’s soft voice drags Nancy out of her reverie. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You meant everything back there, right?”

Nancy forces a smile, leaning against the fridge. “Don’t worry. We’re all okay.”

Five minutes later, they return to the living room. Karen cuts them slices of pie with enthusiasm, opens up a bottle of wine, and offers Mike a glass. When Nancy asks, all she receives is laughter.

“I’m the oldest child.”

“You’re still a child,” Karen insists. She holds the bottle out of Nancy’s reach.

“I’m not!”

“Your brain hasn’t developed,” Mike says through a mouthful of pie. He smiles dryly.

She flicks his forehead, unblinking at his hiss. “You’re disgusting. I’m older than you. If I want wine, I can have wine.”

Karen smirks, stirring her glass. “Alright then, try buying some for yourself.”

Holly laughs so hard while drinking her water, some of it comes out through her nose.

“Why are all my siblings so gross?” Nancy wheezes. “And have deodorant related problems.”

Holly flips her off, ignoring Karen’s scandalized face as she says, “Mike was exaggerating okay, but you know what, why are _my_ siblings so fucking weird, huh? Mike looks five years older whenever I see him, and you haven’t aged a day since I was four.”

“My children are such rascals. Oh my God.”

.

.

.

They laugh and tear up over old photo albums, long after Holly reluctantly leaves to go to the station. They finish the pie, not without spilling crumbs on the floor.

Mike accidentally spills some of his red wine on Nancy’s leg.

Nancy gasps and thumbs at the stain on the bottom of her capris. “You dick!” She shoves him lightly. Her mouth twists into a grin as drops of wine spill on his shirt.

“If you guys keep swearing,” Karen scolds. She rubs her temples and sets her empty glass of wine behind the stack of photo albums.

Nancy and Mike meet each other’s eyes and smirk. “Mom, if you think that’s the worst thing we’ve done,” Mike trails off.

“I don’t want to hear it. You shouldn’t be smiling at that Michael!”

“Hey, Mom?”

“Yes, Nancy?”

“Can you give us a minute? There are some things I need to talk to him about. Things you probably wouldn’t want to hear.”

Her smile freezes in place, but she nods automatically. She rises to her full height and dusts her blouse. “Yes, of course. I’ll be upstairs. Try not to turn my living room into a pigsty.”

Nancy waits until she hears Karen’s sit on her bed to even glance at him, shaking badly for reasons she can’t comprehend. “This cure,” she says, “what do you know about it?”

“I told you everything I know last night, I swear.”

“No bullshit. You think we could get it?”

Mike holds his breath. She wonders if he’s aware that she can hear his heartbeat. “I love you, so I’m not going to lie to you. I genuinely don’t know. Will says he has no idea what Brenner did or how he did it. When he and Kali told other supernatural beings about it, they were baffled. The closest thing to a cure that anyone outside of Brenner and his guys have heard about are from stories. Of people, thousands of years ago, dying while looking for a cure that involved a ridiculously long, and I’m talking _years,_ and complicated process. Killed by other people who wanted it, killed because of how dangerous it was.

“None of it seemed true. It seemed like a myth. Fiction. No one’s tried since, because a _cure_ to all of this just seems impossible, unlikely, _insane_ , but ... but it exists. I dunno about the stories but now I’m thinking it has to be possible. We don’t know about that for sure, but we know for a fact that Brenner and his team have it. It’s out there. It’s possible. We’re all going to help you and Jonathan get it,” Mike promises.

Nancy doesn’t realize she’s weeping until his index finger wipes her cheek. She rubs her eyes until they’re completely dry. Sunlight slips in through the window. Mike’s heartbeat is reassuringly slow and and steady. She can hear birds chirping and children chasing each other from outside. One kid calls for a break. They say that they need a second to breathe. Maybe one day that can be Nancy too.

The weight of what Mike said finally settles. All of it translates to a single fact: it’s possible.

“We just have to wait for the next time Will shows up. Now that you’re here, I have another reason to stay in Hawkins.”

Nancy ignores the dried tears on her cheeks. The light in her chest is blinding, bursting with the possibility of a life again.

Afraid that she’ll jinx it if she keeps thinking and talking about it, she clears her throat. “You know, it just occurred to me, that I have no idea what you’ve been up. What do you do?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“As long as you’re not a clown or something like that, I won’t. Though that would be fitting.”

“First of all, fuck you,” Mike says through laughter, his eyes, for the first time since she’s seen him yesterday, not tired, “second of all, when I’m not—or wasn’t, I guess—looking for you guys and road-tripping with Lucas and Dustin to try and find out more about those fucking scientists, I’m a freelance writer. It pays the bills and a little more than that. It’s … it’s my life.”

She pictures him in front of a laptop, typing furiously at a keyboard, drinking coffee, and trying to meet a deadline. “I see it,” she says honestly. She doesn’t mention how much she adores the sight. She pushes his arm and ignores his eye-roll. “I do! It’s not stupid. It’s your life. It’s you.”

Mike pushes his hair back. His tight expression lets up. “You had room for an insult there and you didn’t take it. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He exhales, tapping his fingers alongside the carpeted floor. “Is there anything you want to tell me? About … about anything?”

There’s so much blood and death to last multiple lifetimes. It’s not like they killed innocent people, but so many _monsters,_ so many beings like them, so many killed nonetheless. But there are also lilacs in April. Jonathan’s camera facing her. Murray’s bitter coffee. Karen’s staticky laughter over the phone. The first time she saw Holly’s badge underneath the shitty lighting in Hawkins’ single grocery store. Jonathan, not breathing but still alive and solid next to her, always next to her. Steve, warm and alive and, somehow, after everything, still here _._ “There’s a lot, but for now I’ll tell you that I wanted to see you. Always. But I never wanted you to see me.”

“Nancy …”

“I don’t see myself as a monster, but I figured, I don’t know, I’m a killer. I would stain your life with blood and loss, and that it would hurt, and—tell me that looking at me yesterday didn’t break your fucking heart. Tell me.”

He abruptly rests his head on her shoulder. She’s so startled that she sits there, unable to move. A few moments later, she drapes an arm over his shoulder.

“It wasn’t great, but I’d rather see you than not at all,” Mike says. “My life’s stained already. What’s another one gonna do?”

She almost interjects that she started the mess to begin with, but Will didn’t choose for his life to be ruined. She walked into death unknowingly, but walked into danger regardless, while Will just … walked. “I want you to have a normal life.”

“If you don’t get one and Holly’s the freaking _Chief,_ then nope. I’m not going to be the normal one. None of us are.”

She smiles, strangely grateful for his adamancy. “How’s Will?”

Mike visibly lights up at the mention of Will, but plays with his glass of wine and shrugs it off. “He’s … he’s still him, somehow, but also not him. He’s quieter. Still kind. More serious. But it doesn’t feel like any time has passed.”

She resists the urge to pinch his cheeks and tease him. “Did he ask about Jonathan?”

“His face broke when we said he literally left town a week after he disappeared. We told him our theories, but … but he was still worried. He thought we at least knew that you were okay. God, if he had given me a number, if we had _something,_ this would be different. He would know, and Jonathan could see his brother, and Joyce would finally have her son back. Fuck.”

“He’ll come back. We’ll be here. We’re not going anywhere.”

“This have anything to do with Harrington?”

It’s remarkable how quickly she went from appreciating Mike to wanting to murder him. “Why are you so pissed off about him? It’s none of your business.”

“I’m your younger brother,” he says softly, “but also, you already have Jonathan. Why _him_ too?”

She kicks his foot. “Shut up. I have two hands, don’t I?”

“Yeah, I know, you keep hitting me with them.”

“What about you, huh? Anyone special?”

“Not really, no. There’ve been people, but—but it never really … it’s not what you and Jonathan have. What you and Steve and Jonathan are building together.”

She fidgets, not knowing how to respond to what he’s said and ultimately deciding not to. “Was it because of our disappearances?” Guilt seeps into her voice.

Mike stares at a stain Holly made when she was one and she knocked over the bottle of purple nail polish in Nancy’s hand. “Yes, but it was mostly Will’s.”

“Oh. Have you talked to him about it?”

“I’ve seen him three times, Dustin and Lucas there each time with El and Max there for the most recent one, four months ago. Not really the space for it. It’s not that hard to figure out, right? I’m pretty sure it’s all over my face. Besides, we asked casually if there was ever anyone, and we both said no. He looked at me like, like, like he was relieved, which was stupid because as if there would be anyone else, you know?”

“Yeah,” she replies. She covers his hand with hers. “What’s taking so long for him to come? Who’s after him?”

“The same guy who wanted Will turned in the first place. Probably the same guy who made you and Jonathan leave town. He thinks the key to stopping this is stopping him and burning his lab to the ground, but he can’t find the lab to begin with. He’s on the run, and he won’t tell us where or with who, just that he’s safe and helping people. He’s not alone,” Mike says, like this is the millionth time he’s said this, like it’s the thing that’s holding them together.

“You’re not alone either,” she says, and he smiles, but it’s not _enough,_ so she says it again, firmer this time. “I’m not leaving. You’re stuck with me.”

Mike laughs, setting his empty glass by his feet. “I’ve been waiting to hear that for so long.”

.

.

.

They reminisce and she asks him more questions. Before she can ask about the man keeping Will from his life, Brenner, who might be an even bigger threat to her and Jonathan, Karen shouts from upstairs as if Nancy couldn’t hear her regardless of the volume she spoke at. “Nancy, Jonathan’s on the phone!”

Nancy and Mike exchange worried looks. They jump to their feet and run for the kitchen’s phone.

She answers it and practically slams the phone against her ear. “Jonathan?”

“It’s Murray. He—he didn’t use his fucking cane.”

“Who the fuck is Murray?” Mike mouths.

She waves him off, nearly hitting his cheek in the process. “He didn’t use his cane!?”

Jonathan doesn’t have to tell her to come back over.

She hugs Karen goodbye, promises to keep her updated, and accepts Mike’s offer of his company and his car to get to Steve’s place. “Seriously, Jonathan went back to his house?”

She grins wickedly. She shuts the driver’s seat to Mike’s car with a loud slam. “He never left.”

When Mike groans, she hopes Steve will be wearing a t-shirt by the time they get there.

He is. It’s inside-out and it’s Jonathan’s shirt. The fact that this is house and he still stole Jonathan’s single shirt pulls a smile out of her.

He grins as he takes in the sight of Nancy. Despite the fact that Mike is _right there,_ he crosses the space between them with a kiss.

She wants to push Steve off because Mike has already given her enough shit, except it’s been a few hours, and she _doesn’t_ miss him, it’s just that his lips are red and raw and his smile has to be one of her favourite things and okay _fine,_ she missed him. Just a little bit.

Jonathan kisses her cheek in greeting before smiling at Mike. “Hey.” He’s wearing a bright orange shirt that must belong to Steve. Nancy really hopes he keeps it. She likes bright colours on him. “How’d it go with your mom and Holly?”

Mike’s stoic expression lets up with a smile as Steve darts behind him to shut the front door. “Mom cried. I had another sister yell at me. I had some wine though.”

“Nice.” Steve’s grin falters when Mike stares at him. “You had pleasant banter with Jonathan, I assumed—”

“You don’t know me like that.”

Nancy scowls. She would shove Mike if it weren’t for Steve’s hand on her back. “Can you relax? Isn’t wine supposed to be relaxing?”

“Aren’t older sisters supposed to _be_ older?”

She shoots Jonathan a pointed glare when he snorts out a laugh. “I’m sorry, okay, it’s not funny!”

Steve smirks. “It’s a _little_ funny,” he insists, meeting Jonathan’s eyes.

Nancy smiles despite herself. She catches the slight, almost unrecognizable crack in Mike’s mouth.

Steve leads them into his kitchen, which has been cleaned up since last night. It’s back to being tidy and neat, an image ripped right out of one of her mom’s favourite catalogues.

Mike winces regardless. He scratches the back of his head as his eyes rake over the spotless floor. “We’re real sorry about the mess. I didn’t break anything, for the record. I’m stealthy.”

“Like a ninja,” Steve says.

Mike looks perplexed. He clears his throat and asks if he could please have a cup of tea.“I liked your green tea.”

Steve beams and nods earnestly. “Johnny Boy wants black coffee, I’m already making his, so what about you, Nance?”

“Chamomile, please.”

“Ugh, chamomile is—”

“Call it an abomination. I dare you.”

“What the fuck,” Mike says slowly.

She doesn’t offer an explanation, just smiles placidly and snuggles further into Jonathan’s side. “Hi,” she says again. She presses her nose against his cheek to make him smile. “What did Murray say exactly?”

“That he fell down the stairs, but was completely fine. I know it’s bullshit. We left him alone for too long, he’s senile, stubborn, and old, and—”

Nancy presses her hand against the back of Jonathan’s neck. “Hey, it’s alright,” she reassures him, even if the sight of stupid Murray in a stupid cast, unable to do anything for himself makes her sick. “We can drive up and give him our blood. He’ll be okay.”

“Let’s leave now then—”

“Wait, no, you can’t come with me. If Will shows up, you need to be here. We’ve lost enough time. You and Will have lost enough time. I can go by myself.”

She can tell he doesn’t like the idea. Neither does she. It’s not a matter of safety. She can take care of herself as well as he can. It’s a matter of, _we’ve spent so much time together, and I don’t want to see you go._ “It’s Sunday, right, so I’ll be back by Tuesday. I’ll call. You stay.”

“I’ll stay,” he echos morosely. He bends his head down toward hers.

Steve clears his throat, leaning against his kitchen counter. His heartbeat races. “Nance, if you want—”

“I do.”

“I didn’t finish my sentence.”

“I know. Come with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Jonathan is it—”

“You don’t need my permission.” Jonathan smiles warmly and extends his other arm out toward Steve, beckoning him to come closer. “Murray’s weird, but so are you. You might get along.”

Steve brightens. The tips of his ears turn red as he nestles in Jonathan’s side. “I take that as a compliment, you know.”

“Knowing Murray,” Jonathan says, resting his chin on Steve’s head, “it really isn’t. But if you’re glad, I’m glad.”

“Will I get along with _Mike_ though—”

“Probably not, but I appreciate the efforts,” Mike says, smiling dryly.

Nancy doesn’t know how to voice how much she likes this. Tea with her boys and her brother. Mike getting along perfectly with Jonathan, who’s as polite and friendly and good as he always is, always was.  Mike pretending to be some grouchy old guy, as if he isn’t touched by Steve’s gesture. Steve still trying anyway.

She doesn’t know how to voice it, so she says, “Mike, stop being a dick-head.”

Mike shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowed together. She laughs, unable to contain her joy, and hopes it’s enough.

.

.

.

Steve runs upstairs to pack. He doesn’t return for ten minutes.

“I never asked.” Mike narrows his eyes, Steve’s Mickey Mouse mug held tightly in his hands. “Who the fuck is this guy, Murray? Like … what does he do?”

Nancy cants her head to the side. They sit together at Steve’s dining table, her empty mug in front of her. “Aside from being annoying,” she says dryly, thinking of his inability to be organized, how he always left an empty carton of milk in the fridge, how he had weekly poker nights with werewolves who would shed hair, “he’s a PI. Does supernatural shit. Knows a lot of things, people, but not as much as we thought if he didn’t know about a cure.”

It’s the first time she’s said the word in front of Jonathan. His eyes shine, for one, fleeting moment, before he schools his features into a neutral expression. He stands tall, like he’s still Will’s older brother, like he’ll still be an older brother for him and all of his friends.

“Speaking of.” Jonathan gently touches her forearm. “Is it—I mean, Nancy, we haven’t talked about it.”

“Mike says there’s a way that doesn’t involve Brenner. It’s hard to get, an excruciatingly complex process that might take years. Not a lot of people know about it. Not everyone _wants_ it. But it’s possible.” She slides her hand over his. “Jonathan, it’s possible.”

“Will had it done to him, so the chances of us extracting the cure or getting Brenner’s help isn’t that likely. The chance of us getting it ourselves is … I don’t even know, but still. If you two still look exactly the same after all this time, then one day you could finally get to not be seventeen. Grow old.”

She doesn’t look at Jonathan when Mike says this. Just stares at his left hand, wondering how a ring would look, if he would ever take it off (probably not), if he would twist and turn when he was nervous. It’s one of the million little fantasies running through her head right now, but it’s the only one she allows to take shape.

They’re practically married at this point. Their souls are bonded in a way she knows is rare, even if he’s her first love, and judging by Steve’s heavy breathing from running around upstairs, not her only one either.

With Jonathan, she kind of just knew. She didn’t love him immediately, but she loved parts of him easily. Knew that this was going to be _something_.

She had the exact same feeling with Steve. Knew that Jonathan did too.

Maybe it could work for all of them. Maybe’s aren’t strong, but they’re still good. Still something she can work with.

Jonathan’s smiling uncontrollably. He glows, brighter than ever.

“After you and Will reunite, we’ll talk about it. We have the time.”

“We do,” Jonathan agrees. It’s different, this time when they say it. It might be because the former impossibility of them not having a forever is finally a possibility.

An eternity with Jonathan is an objectively good thing. It’s just that it’s an eternity with him and no one else. She’s always thought about, in a distant way, what happens when her mom dies, when her siblings die, what happens then? Her life wouldn’t have changed dramatically from the way she lived before, but knowing that all of her tethers to her past life, save for Jonathan, were cut … knowing this, knowing she wouldn’t see them after death—

It’s not like she believes in heaven or the after-life necessarily, but if she’s still seventeen, then why the fuck not? Life’s weird enough.

But this changes everything.

Jonathan smiles tentatively at Mike. “Can you tell me more about Will?”

“Of course. He was devastated when we told him we haven’t seen you since he disappeared, that we haven’t been able to find you.”

“You were looking for me?”

“Of course! Dude, it was—you have no idea how wild that week was. Okay, you do, but—Will goes missing, then Barb, then you two in the same fucking day. It was too much. You wouldn’t leave your mom, and we were so scared for you both. It kind of hit us, later than it should’ve, that you were probably together. I know you were torn up about Barb and Will and I know _you’re_ a reckless idiot—”

Nancy scoffs. “It runs in the family. Breaking into _this_ house? If there were alarms, what would you have done? They could’ve called the police.”

“It’s almost like our sister is the Chief.”

“How would you explain three adult men breaking into a house where three teenagers were hanging out?”

“We wouldn’t have been caught. We’re too good for that.”

“Motherfucker, we _caught_ you.”

“Only ’cuz you have super-hearing.”

Jonathan clears his throat. “You were saying, Mike?”

Mike flushes, grumbles out an apology, and continues. “Look, Will’s our best friend. That automatically makes you important to us. We were annoying kids, your brother’s stupid friends, but you never treated us like that.”

Jonathan wipes his eyes and smiles shakily. “You didn’t have to, but thank you. I appreciate that more than you know.”

Mike grins. He leans back into his seat, crossing one leg over the other. “I’m happy you two had each other. Will wasn’t alone, but he didn’t have that consistency. Didn’t have a _person._ ”

Nancy squeezes Jonathan’s hand without thinking about it.

Steve comes running into the kitchen, an overstuffed duffel with the zipper not completely zipped slung over his back and panting.“I’m good! I’m ready. I’m game.”

“Did you ask your parents?”

“Did _you,_ Nance?”

“Different circumstances.”

“Not really. We’re the same age.”

“Jonathan, can you,” she says, making aimless hand gestures.

“Can you? It would make her feel better.”

“Yeah, okay.” Steve’s voice turns soft. He stops bouncing on his feet and relaxes his shoulders, dropping his duffel bag onto the floor.

Jonathan’s amused smile widens.  

“How can you give in to him and not me?”

“You _didn’t ask!_ ”

She opens her mouth to respond, but Steve holds his hand up, calling his parents with his other one. “Be right back.” He heads out of the kitchen.

Nancy turns her head to Jonathan. “You’ll be okay, right? I’ll call you. We’ll video-chat with Murray. It’ll be okay.”

Mike groans. “It’s three days. He’ll be fine.”

Before she can tell Mike to fuck off, Steve runs back into the room. He’s grinning. It’s not his cocky, lazy grin that kind of makes her weak in the knees, but a silly, goofy one. “I’m good!”

“That was fast,” Jonathan says. It looks like he has more to say, but his mouth snaps shut when Steve, facing Jonathan’s back, bends down to rest his chin on his shoulder.

“Don’t want me to leave yet, do ya?”

“No.”

Steve turns red. He doesn’t have a suave response. Just makes a pleased sound and nuzzles into Jonathan’s neck.

Jonathan strokes Steve’s cheek and shuts his eyes, reaching back to comb through Steve’s hair.

She likes this. Them, content and awkwardly adorable, basking in this new thing they have.

Mike looks away. “I just ate, you guys. Come on.”

“We could leave now. I have clothes at Murray’s and Mike can tell mom. I’ll be back,” Nancy says, mostly to Mike, who looks sick for different reasons.

“I can drive you, if you want, to—” Jonathan quiets at the hand she presses a hand against his chest.

“Stay here. Three days. We’ve done harder things.”

Jonathan nods and grips her hand. He tilts his head to brush his lips against Steve’s. “Be good.”

“I’ll be fine,” Steve and Nancy say defensively.

Jonathan’s eyes crinkle with laughter. Mike just rolls his eyes.

.

.

.

They take Jonathan’s car. She hugs him for a minute or two, not wanting to let go. Steve presses his face into Jonathan’s neck, blushing furiously when he pulls apart.

“So,” Steve says the second Nancy starts driving.

“If you want to go back, you can. We’re still in Hawkins.”

“We won’t be, in like, five minutes. I’m in. It’s only a few days and spending most of that time in a car, with you? I’m down.”

Nancy’s glad she has the excuse of needing to watch the road. She doesn’t think she could look at him otherwise. “I’ve killed vampires, werewolves, shit you wouldn’t believe exists. But somehow you are the thing that’s making me nervous.”

“I’ve—I’ve never done anything half as cool as that, except maybe know you and Jonathan, but um. Ditto.”

“What?”

“Dit—you’re so fucking old.”

“Shut up. What does that mean?”

“Same. Oh my God. I can teach you slang. Do you know what LOL is?”

“Obviously,” she lies. “And that sounds terrible. I won’t ever use it, so what’s the point?”

“The point is … the point is education. Knowing things is important.”

“Sure, but knowing stupid shit isn’t.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Ditto has one more syllable and one more letter than same. Why not say same?”

Steve remains silent for a few seconds. “Can you not?”

She bursts into laughter. She steals a glance of him and his smile from the corner of her eye. “You can play your music, if you want. Jonathan has that cord thing.”

“Do you mean the aux cord?”

“If you knew what I meant, why did you correct me?”

Steve thanks her profusely. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, finds the aux cord (not without waving it by the side of her face and saying ‘this is the aux cord’ over and over again)  and plays a song. “You’re going to love it. I can’t wait to show you all the music you’ve missed.”

She wants to interject that she wasn’t in a coma, but doesn’t. Steve looks too excited.

With Jonathan’s music, she teases him, calling his music fake-deep or pretentious or boring. He laughs and tells her how ’wrong’ she is. Secretly, and she’s pretty sure he knows this, she doesn’t think that. She likes his music. It helps that he loved music with all heart and that it got him smiling. Over the years, she learned how to bring that light out of him until eventually her existence did the job. One way was through his music. Getting him to talk about it. Getting him to play it.

“—watch that scene, diggin’ the dancing queen,” he sings, making his voice higher.

She laughs again. She’ll tell him that she already knows ABBA after two more of their songs.

.

.

.

“Have you had McDonalds?”

“I’m kind of offended that you had to ask. I’m not a _million_ years old and McDonalds is kind of hard to miss.”

They find a McDonalds a few minutes later. It’s their first stop in the two hours on the road with six more to go.

“I don’t really eat here though. Yes, shocking that I put animal blood in my body and not this, I know. What do you recommend?”

They order a ridiculous amount of food, all paid for thanks to Steve’s debit card. It’s too much for them to eat in the car, so they take a booth. They sit across from each other. Their feet tangle underneath the table. Steve brushes his pinky against hers. Nancy saves them both the trouble and grabs his hand. It’s slightly sweaty, but still as soft as she remembers.

“Is this okay?”

Steve raises an eyebrow and stops slurping from his Coke. “You’re asking me if hand-holding is okay?”

“I want to make sure! I don’t want to _presume._ ”

“Hey, hey,” he laughs. He raises their entwined hands. “I appreciate it, okay? I do. This thing is new for all of us, right? Unless I’m not the first person you two have dated, oh my God, have there been _others,_ other people or vampires or like, I dunno, werewolves—”

“Steve! Hey, you’re our first. New territory for all of us. We’ve only been with each other. Besides, we didn’t, like, deliberately seduce you or anything. You—you were there, and then it was impossible to ignore you and then you made us not want to anyway. You know?”

Steve ducks his head for a quick sip. “I get it. I—I really couldn’t you get you two out of my ahead, after you saved my life. It was impossible to ignore you too.”

Nancy smiles, pops a fry into her mouth, and doesn’t let go of Steve’s hand.

The McDonalds’ isn’t busy. There are two families here, each with children, shrieking, laughing, and running around. They’re sitting next to the garbage and recycling. These details somehow make the fact that this is technically a date even better.

“You put pepper in your ketchup?” Nancy watches him, her lower lip curling.

“You drink blood. Don’t judge me.”

She kicks his ankle and lets her foot rest on his. “I’ll try.” It’s not bad. It’s not anything, really, but she’s already started, so she continues dipping her fries in his strange sauce.

“D’ya think I’m crazy?”

Nancy nearly drops her french fry onto her lap. “What?”

“Y’know, shacking up with you and Jonathan. Not running for the hills when your brother and his friends break in my house. Not when I learn that you’re a vampire, that you’ve, like, killed before.” There’s no judgement in his voice. It still stings when he says it, even though it’s true.

Nancy clasps her hands together. She listens to his breathing. He’s slightly anxious. “I think,” she says slowly, carefully choosing her words, “you like us too much. The rest doesn’t matter for you because it’s us. It’s been six weeks, but your heart’s already decided, and you think with your heart. I don’t want you to get hurt. But here’s the thing: I like you too much to make what’s probably the best decision. Anyway, we’re thinking about right now, right?”

Steve smiles. It could be the sunlight streaming through the windows, but she’s pretty sure that it’s him, shining on his own. “Next time I think I have a danger kink, I’ll remember that you literally died.”

“Okay, first of all, you can’t make fun of me for that, second of all, I didn’t _ask_ to die, and third of all, you’re into not one vampire, but two. We both have danger kinks.” She cannot believe she just said that, but she supposed it’s not the weirdest thing she’s done.

Steve smiles. “I guess we do.”

.

.

.

“I’ll drive.”

“No, you’re tired and you’ve yawned five times. Nance, I’m fine. Pull over.”

“Steve, don’t—it’s oh—oh—” The word gets lost in another yawn. “Fine.”

She pulls over at a gas station so they can switch seats.

“Better?” Steve asks. He watches her hug her legs to her chest. He smiles gently, reaching over to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

She wants to hold him or lay her head in his lap. She hates the space between them, but she still says, “Yes,” because he’s smiling, he’s _there,_ and he’s still there, after the chaos of last night. She falls asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat.

.

.

.

They make it to New Jersey by midnight.

“He won’t kill me, right?”

“No.” Nancy reaches out to touch Steve’s chest. She startles at the feeling of his heart, beating beneath her hand.

“Nance, um.”

“Sorry, I’m like—” She laughs, embarrassed. “I’m obsessed with your heartbeat. I listen to people’s heartbeats if I’m nervous or just because it’s a nice thing to hear, since I can’t hear mine or Jonathan’s since, well, we don’t have one, and yours is particularly … soothing.”

She waits for Steve to laugh, but he doesn’t. He lets out a quiet _oh_ and stares briefly at the hand she still has on his chest. “That’s really fucking sweet.”

So she keeps her hand there as she instructs Steve where to turn, close enough that they don’t need to use GPS anymore.

It’s a small, two-story building, not nearly as creepy as the first house they had. It was kind of a disaster in regards to everything: the plumbing, the paint, the creaky floorboards. Jonathan and Nancy challenged themselves to fix it, make it homelier. Even fixed the crack in the ceiling of the soundproof basement. But Murray, for whatever reason, would never let them touch his room. They rarely stepped into the pigsty, but she knows it by heart. Knows everything in the house by heart, actually.

She knows Murray’s schedule. He’s home, either watching a true crime documentary or painting a frog. She has one of his purple frogs hung up in her bedroom in that house. She makes a mental note to bring it back with her.  

“Let’s go.” She holds his hand on their way to the front door, worry knotting in her chest. She unlocks the front door with her key and quietly enters the house.

He’s somewhere upstairs. Probably sleeping. She doesn’t want to disturb him.

Nancy and Steve step out of their shoes and wander into the house. This was her home, in a way. But she didn’t miss it the same way she missed the creaking window in her mother’s kitchen. Don’s ice cream shop. Even Murray coming home in the middle of the night, smelling like death and casually saying he had dinner with a bunch of ghosts. He asked if they wanted to meet them, but Nancy and Jonathan declined. Truthfully it freaked her out. The smell, the fact that they were as dead as hers. If they weren’t a problem, then she would happily avoid them, thank you.

Steve frowns as his eyes rake over the foyer. “No pictures?”

She shrugs and tugs on his hand, pulling him toward the stairway. “Jonathan and I didn’t take much when we first left. He wanted his mom to have every picture they had of Will and it—it physically hurt, to keep pictures of my family. Don’t give me that look.”

“What look?”

“The _I feel bad for you_ look.”

“I do feel—”

“I don’t want pity.”

“What do you want, then?”

She doesn’t know how to answer that. She pauses on the final step of the stairway leading to the second floor. “I made my choices. It brought me here. I’m not—I don’t _deserve_ pity, period.”

“You deserve whatever you want. I would never pity you, but I would, and I do, want you to have everything good in this world and then some.”

He’s so earnest and she can’t _not_ kiss the life out of him, so she swings around and grabs his arm to make sure he doesn’t fall down the flight of stairs. “You’re unbelievable,” she mumbles before roughly pressing her mouth against his. It’s not an insult. Not in the slightest.

Steve grips her waist, holding her close and eagerly kissing her back. She forgets about everything.

She belatedly senses Murray’s arrival as a cane nearly hits Steve’s face. “You broke up with Jonathan!?” Murray’s eyes are wide and livid. His arm, the one not covered in a cast, waves his cane in the air frantically.

“What? No! And don’t fucking hit my—” She stops and grabs Murray’s cane before he can whack Steve. “Jonathan’s seeing him too. Calm down. We’re gone for less than two months and look at you. You broke your arm?”

Murray crosses _one_ arm and narrows his eyes at Steve. “I’m not over this kid! In my house!”

Steve groans. He moves quickly to stand and slightly cower behind Nancy. “Why does everyone in your life hate me?”

She resists the urge to lean over and adjust Murray’s crooked glasses, sighing instead. “Can you relax? I’m here for you. We were worried, you stupid, _stupid_ man. You look ridiculous, by the way.”

“You too.”

“C’mon, Steve.” She takes Steve’s hand and leads him into Murray’s room.

Murray makes a move for his cane, and Nancy scowls, keeping it out of arm’s reach. “Are you serious?”

.

.

.

Nancy was right. Murray was watching a documentary. It continues playing in the background, a recent one about a missing persons case that Murray is convinced involved a leprechaun.

“Those exist?” Steve exclaims.

“Everything exists,” she says warily, smiling a little at Steve’s incredulousness. She finishes pouring her blood into a cup and shoves it into Murray’s hand. “Drink up.”

“I don’t need—”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t fight her when she thrusts the cup into his not-broken hand. “Cheers.”

Steve hovers by the door, not stepping further inside. She doesn’t blame him. The walls are half white, half yellow, trash litters one side of the room, and two mice have scattered down the room and out of sight. There’s also the whole thing with Murray nearly attacking Steve.

Murray chugs her blood, crumples the cup up, and flings it across the room. He lays on his bed, spreading his arm out and staring at it expectantly. He picks at his cast. “How’s everyone? Joyce, Karen?”

“Good. Better, since we’ve been in Hawkins.”

“You haven’t called in a few weeks. Is everything—”

“Just busy.” Nancy kicks the crumpled cup. “I’m sorry about that, we should’ve—”

Murray lifts his cast-covered hand in a gesture that cuts her off. His glasses slide down his nose as he tilts his head to look at her. “Don’t be. Live your life, Nancy. That’s why Hopper put us together in the first place isn’t it? That was the point of all of this.”

Nancy crosses the space between them. The bed dips with her weight as she plops next to him. “We haven’t forgotten about you. We won’t. Do you understand that?”

“I know you both. I know you would never let yourselves, but if you need my permission to, you have it.”

“Shut up,” Nancy grumbles. “Please. I uh—saw Holly and Mike. Will’s okay. Kind of. There’s a lot we didn’t know, but I’m honestly too tired to get into it.” Plus, she doesn’t want to bring up the cure in front of Steve. Not yet. Not until she’s talked it over with Jonathan.

Murray’s eyebrows rise into what’s left of his hairline. “But everything’s okay?”

“More okay than it’s ever been. God. Everything is so good. Until of course you went and didn’t use your fucking cane.”

Murray laughs. He waves his arm and makes a pleased sound. “So? What’s the story here?” He nods his head at Steve, who still lingers by the door.

Nancy can’t help the smile stretching across her mouth when Steve coughs at being mentioned, wiggling his toes. “We like him. End of story. Don’t be a dick about it.”

“Oh, you _like_ Steve, huh?”

“Yes, we like him! We like him a lot!” Would it be rude to flick the forehead of an elderly man who just broke his arm?

She softens at Steve’s flush, how he runs a hand through his hair with a giddy smile.

The crease in Murray’s forehead lets up. “You asked him to come all this way with you?”

“He offered. Do you think I would’ve wanted him to meet you?” Nancy smiles dryly and pokes his now-useless cast.

“Fair enough.” Murray aims his sharp grin at Steve. “Okay. I like him then.”

.

.

.

Murray orders pizza. They finish the documentary together, squeezed in on Murray’s bed. He peeled his cast off and keeps waving it in his lap, half-amazed that it’s healed. She doesn’t understand his fascination. They’ve healed him multiple times since his gunshot wound way back when (Murray is a reckless idiot, clearly). But it is adorable, in an old-man sort of way, that his intrigue in all things supernatural is still as fresh as it was when he got into this, so many years ago.

Nancy has already seen this documentary, but she still wishes Murray and Steve would speak quietly.

“It listened to me. That makes it sentient, right?”

“Hmm. I haven’t seen anything like it. That’s fascinating. I’ll have to ask around. It left no marks?”

“None! Nance said we had to kill it. I was upset, but I understand.”

She wishes they could fucking whisper, but she likes that they’re getting along.

.

.

.

The plan was to stay another day. She didn’t like that Murray was alone during the day often and she didn’t know how much longer it would be until they returned. _If_ they returned.

Jonathan’s phone-call disrupts the plan.

“Hey, Johnny Boy, what’s—shit, are you okay?”

Nancy sits up at the sound of Steve’s alarmed voice, straining to hear Jonathan’s voice over the loud, violent ringing in her head.

“What’s wrong? Oh, what the _fuck!?_ Okay, okay, she’s here, she hears you, I just—you’re not alone? You’re safe now, right?”

She catches the gist of it. An attack. Jonathan was with Mike, Lucas, and Dustin, eating dinner a few miles out of Hawkins. They’re sure it’s the same men who were looking for Will, who might have started all of this. It’s hard to be sure. She can’t hear _anything._ Her mind’s pounding, Steve’s heart is racing, but she has to get up, she has to do something, she—

She has to leave.

“I don’t want to leave you yet,” she says tearfully to Murray. She’s never had to tell Murray how fond she is of him, because they’ve always had the time, and he’s always known, but she has the sudden urge to tell him.

“Go,” Murray says softly, “I’ll see you again.”

She wants to believe him, but now she isn’t so sure.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they can never have a moment of peace, can they?
> 
> so all that happened. the morning after fluff. wheeler lunch. proof that i haven't forgotten about murray! and an attack. poor kids.
> 
> nancy, mike, and holly's scenes are one of the things i'm most pleased with about this fic. there were a lot of nice moments here of course between stoncy but also like between mike and jonathan, karen and the kids, murray and nancy, etc. steve and nancy were especially soft and will be even softer w/ jonathan come next chapter. and more of the kids who technically aren't kids.
> 
> we're half-way through this fic, which is wild, extremely weird, as i'm getting closer to finishing the actual writing of this story (i just have one chapter left), but we've still got a lot more to get through. this chapter and the ones following this one have a lot that i'm excited to share, so i'd love to know what you think!!
> 
> ALSO because i have no self-control, i also wrote a small stonathan (w/ established stoncy bc ... u know me) [thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18775321) that follows s2. check it out!
> 
> thank you for reading. see ya next friday.


	6. Chapter 6

****The car ride back to Hawkins is the longest eleven hours of Nancy’s life.

Steve and Nancy freak out, but he ends up comforting her the most. “We’re going to get to him soon, okay? Soon. We’ll figure it out. It’s going to be fine. Eleven hours should be like nothing, right?”

“Right. Right. Except it’s not nothing, it’s long, I’m tired, and I’m _scared._ ” It’s out before she can take it back. She stares at the road, trying to focus on maintaining a safe speed and navigating through the poorly-lit streetlights, anything to distract her from Jonathan and admitting how little control she has.

“Hey, hey, I know you’re scared. I am too. But he’s not alone right now. Neither are you,” Steve says softly. “You’re not dying. Well. Not again. Not anytime soon.”

“Keep talking.” Nancy grips the steering wheel hard enough that she has to remind herself she could break it. “Please.”

“Like, you want me to reassure you or tell you a stupid story?”

“I want your stupid stories. I want all of your stories.” She relaxes when she catches Steve’s half-smile, his tired eyes brightening ever so slightly.

“Do you want to hear about the first time Tommy broke his hand?”

“He’s broken his hand twice?”

“Multiple times, Nance. Multiple times.”

It’s enough to make her laugh, so she nods. “Tell me about each time.”

Time passes by easier with Steve. They don’t stop for bathroom breaks, just to switch seats when Nancy is sure she can’t drive. They talk to keep them both awake and calm.

“You can still walk away. We won’t blame you,” she says tiredly.

“No way our YA story is ending here. We can skip over the _love interest_ —or love interests, I guess—breaking up with the heroine for their safety thing, right?”

“Heroine? You’re the heroine?”

“You know what I mean. Look, I can make my own decisions. I won’t regret it.”

If he wants this just as much as they do, who is she to argue with that? “I want to kiss you right now, but you’re driving. I don’t want you to die.”

Steve laughs, leaning into his seat. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” She glances at him mid-yawn, his hair disheveled and all over the place from how he keeps messing with it, his eyes red from exhaustion. “You’re kind of cute, you know.”

“You’re extremely cute. And beautiful. And intelligent. And—”

“Too many words. Pick one.”

“You’re indescribable.”

“Cheating.”

“Am not! You do it then. No cheating.”

She purses her lips and cants her head to the side. “You’re … fuck.”

Steve grins lazily. “I’m fuck?” He repeats, his voice dripping with amusement.

“Stop laughing at me.” She laughs anyway, right as the sun starts rising. It's still mostly dark, but the beginning of light reassures her immensely.

“I would never laugh at you,” Steve says solemnly. “I’m only laughing because you’re adorable.”

Since she’s stopped at a red light, she does kiss him this time, leaning across her seat to press her mouth against his. “Are you hungry?”

“Car sex seems inappropriate right now.”

“Are you—no! That is not what I meant! And you think _that’s_ how I would ask you to have sex? Steve!”

“Nance!” He shrinks in the seat, covering his blush with his hands.

A laugh leaves her throat before she can help herself. “You’re so ridiculous.” She shakes her head slightly and nearly forgets to drive on when the light turns green again. “Thank you for being here.”

“Thanks for saving my life that day.”

“Thanks for letting us use your pool.”

“That is not remotely close to you saving my life.”

“It’s a nice pool!”

Steve laughs and rolls the window down, just a crack.

She smiles, the light in her chest momentarily quelling the nausea that hit her the moment they left Murray’s house. “You saved our lives too. Don’t forget that.”

“Guess we owe each other, huh?”

“Wouldn’t that cancel out our debts?”

“Stop poking holes in my analogy. Don’t kill romance, Nance.”

.

.

.

Eventually, in an hour less than the eleven hours it took them to get to New Jersey, they make it back to Hawkins.

Steve calls Mike to ask where they are. He hangs up shortly after Mike tells him they’re at his apartment. She doesn’t have enough time to ask Steve when he could have possibly exchanged numbers with her brother, because she reminds Steve they have no idea where Mike’s place is and that he needs to call Mike again.

It’s a small apartment complex on the edge of Hawkins. As she gazes out of the window, parked in the lot, she doesn't recognize it.

“It’s new. Built maybe seven years ago?” Steve explains, a drop of spit hitting Nancy’s cheek while he yawns. “Shit, sorry.” He wipes it off using his thumb.

She takes this opportunity to lean her forehead against his. “Take a nap. You haven’t properly slept in a day.”

“Neither have you. I’m fine. I just—I want to see him first.”

“I get that,” she murmurs. “Let’s go.”

No one answers them when they buzz, so they call Mike for the third time, only for him to say they’ve been dialing the wrong number.

Nancy grits her teeth and glares at the door keeping them from Jonathan. “You gave us that number!” She shouts into Steve’s phone.

“Your _boyfriend_ misheard me.”

“I have great hearing, what the fuck—”

“Steve? Nancy?”

Nancy melts at the sound of Jonathan’s voice. She’s tempted to break the door down to get inside. “We’re here. Unless my stupid fucking brother won’t—”

A ding rings in the air, followed by the red light on the door turning green. “Thank you!”

They rush into the elevator. Nancy slams the button to Mike’s floor and the button to shut the doors as soon as possible.

Steve shoves his hands into his pockets and hums along to the elevator music. “What?” He smiles at her fond grin. “It’s catchy.”

“Lots of things are catchy. Colds, the flu, the plague.”

“Don’t be a Nancy Nowner.”

“Don’t be sidiculous, Steve.”

“Don’t be nadorable, Nancy.”

“You guys are fucking annoying,” Mike’s low grumble sounds from Steve’s phone. “Please hang up. And Steve, you could’ve said _Negative Nancy._ ”

When they reach Mike’s floor, the fifth, it doesn’t take long to find his door. Lucas answers when they ring the doorbell.

She pushes past him, Steve following her lead, and immediately spots Jonathan, sprawled out on a grey, torn-up sofa. She sinks to her knees in front of him. She doesn’t have the time to look around and take in what Mike’s place looks like, the apartment he apparently bought for whenever he returned to Hawkins.

Jonathan is all she has time for right now.

He doesn’t look wounded, only pale and tired. “You didn’t have to come early. Steve, you should be sleeping, why are you—”

“Stop talking,” Steve interrupts. He hesitates before resting his hand on Jonathan’s knee. “You’re okay?”

Jonathan softens and says, unsurprisingly, “I’m fine.”

“No bullshit.” Nancy grabs Jonathan’s face and presses a brief, chaste kiss against his lips. “Be honest. Please.”

“I’m okay now,” he corrects, smiling weakly.

Steve slumps against the frame of the couch, letting out a heavy exhale.

Nancy’s still petrified, still angry and exhausted and confused.

But right now, this is enough.

.

.

.

Dustin makes them coffee. Nancy and Steve sit on the floor by Jonathan’s feet so that he can have the sofa to himself. All three of them hold hands, even when Dustin brings their coffee to him.

“What if I want to drink my coffee?” Jonathan sounds amused, watching Nancy and Steve share a look.

“We each have another hand,” Steve says, “unless you want us to let go?”

“Nah. You have a warm hand. Nancy’s always freezing, but I like it too. Balance.”

Lucas and Mike join Dustin on the other sofa. They all look exhausted, sitting close, elbows and knees and arms poking each other. No one looks uncomfortable.

Lucas clears his throat and rubs his hands together. “So last night was insane. You got the details, right?”

Nancy swallows the bile rising in her throat. “You went out to eat. Men in black showed up with guns, aiming for Jonathan. For his chest. You guys escaped, no one was hurt, and drove around for a few hours before taking him to Mike’s. The guys fled the scene. Holly checked on our mothers, right? I’m not missing anything?”

Dustin nods, fiddling with his fingers. “They’re okay. Holly’s keeping an eye on them. They’ve attacked Will before, but they’ve never gotten him. Still … we _need_ him back. But there’s no way of contacting him. We think he’s coming soon, though. Every visit so far has been spaced out between three to four months. It’s been three and a half months. Any day now. You have a few options, though—”

“We’re staying,” Jonathan cuts in. His jaw twitches when everyone stares at him. “Nancy and I can handle it. We need to end this, and if Will comes back, or if something happens then—that boy was killed—”

“Oh, we handled that,” Mike says flippantly.

Nancy sets her mug by her feet so quickly splashes of coffee spill onto the carpeted floor.“What do you mean _you_ handled it?”

“The Upside Down. Jane handled it,” he continues, like that explains everything. “Hawkins is safe, at least from the monsters. Don’t worry about it.”

Lucas nods. “No way they’re going to attack a public place again. They’re not going to want to raise any suspicions.”

“What do you know about them?” Steve asks. He cranes his head to glance at Jonathan and Nancy, his face pale and white.  

“As much as you know, to be honest,” Dustin sighs. “Will didn’t want to say much. We don’t think they’re with the government. Least not this country’s. They’re terrible people. They’re obsessed with the supernaturals a weird interest in vampires. We think it has to do with the aging and healing. They’re adamant on getting Will, because he was part of some experiment. One that clearly backfired. He escaped with that girl, Kali, after a few years in captivity. He goes around trying to take them down and free and help everyone they’ve fucked over. They would be after him even if he weren’t helping save supernatural beings. He’s a loose thread.”

It goes unspoken: they can’t do much except wait for Will.

“We’ll be okay,” Nancy insists. “All of us.” She grips Jonathan’s hand even tighter and sips her coffee. Staying at Joyce’s place is out of the question now. “If we stay with you, Mike, will we put you in danger?”

Mike stops blowing on his coffee to grin. “I’m always in danger. That’s just my life. But I’m still standing, aren’t I? I have a spare room.”

.

.

.

“Okay,” Dustin announces, returning with a stack of board-games. “Everyone is scared, which I get, but we’ve had naps, we’ve had time, and we’ve wasted enough of it being sad. Let’s have fun!”

“Board-games,” Steve says curiously, “I haven’t played Monopoly in years.”

“Our marriage might end in an hour or two. Heads up.” Lucas smiles, lowering himself onto the floor.

Nancy meets Jonathan’s eyes, both mouthing _married?_ That’s one detail Mike left out.

Mike sits next to Dustin, extending his gangly legs out in front of him. He reaches into the box and gasps. “I want the hat piece.”

“Can we do teams?”

Mike gawks at Steve, craning his head to look at him so quickly there’s a crack. “Teams? _Teams?_ ”

Nancy shoots Mike a glare. “Well, I’m glad you can hear. Yes, he said teams.”

Despite raising his hand, Dustin doesn’t wait for anyone to ask him what he has to say to start speaking.  “I’m not on Lucas’ team. He beat me last time, so I need to crush him. Love you.”

“I’m obviously on Nancy’s,” Jonathan says, followed shortly by Steve exclaiming, “Same!”

“No, no, you can’t have _three_ people on a team,” Dustin insists. He shakes his head as Jonathan foots Steve, smiling gently.

Steve furrows his eyebrows. Nancy already knows she’s going to hate what he says next. “If I’m screwing them both—”

Jonathan groans, tucking his face into Steve’s neck. “Why?”

“Then why can’t I be on their team?”

“In life, you're on our team,” Nancy says. “So we can play separately and I can crush all of you.”

“Nance, what the fuck—”

“You’re a sore loser. You’re cocky. You’re going down,” Jonathan teases.

Mike cracks his knuckles. “I’m going to destroy Nancy. It’s my birthright.”

“I _named_ you.”

“You saved me from being named Pascal. Doesn’t count.”

Lucas and Dustin break into laughter. “I’m sorry,” Lucas says, clapping Mike’s back, “ _Pascal?_ Thank you, Nancy. Thank you.”

Nancy grins. “Whoops. If you want embarrassing stories, I’ve got you.”

Mike grounds his teeth, rolling the hat piece between his fingers. “Nancy.”

“What was that, Pascal?”

The game is prolonged for two minutes as Lucas and Dustin catch their breath, wheezing with laughter. Nancy is extremely proud of herself.

.

.

.

Having to explain to her mom what happened is difficult. She does it vaguely over the phone, promising that it’ll work out, that it can’t last long, that she won’t let it.

“You’re okay?”

“I am. I promise. We can FaceTime and all the time. I’m with Mike. Please don’t worry. Holly will keep you safe.”

“Nancy,” Karen sobs.

Nancy lets herself cry with her mother. “It’s not like last time. Believe me.”

She passes Mike’s phone back to him at Karen request to speak with him. She doesn’t want to drift into the kitchen where Jonathan’s talking to Joyce. She couldn’t handle hearing that.

Luckily, Steve joins her in the spare room that’s soon to be hers and Jonathan’s. “Busy day.”

“Are you—”

“Nance,” Steve says, interlocking their fingers, “if you ask me one more time if I’m sure about this, I might lose my mind.”

Her grin deepens when he kisses her hand. “I was going to ask if you were okay hanging out here, maybe a little further out of Hawkins. Only twenty minutes away.”

Steve laughs and scratches the back of his head. “Whoops. Of course. I start school in a week and half, so—”

“Right. You still have school. Nerd.”

He snorts, resting a hand on her waist as she steps closer towards him. “Jonathan has told me too many high school stories about you for me to let that pass.”

“Have you heard any of him?”

Steve’s eyes light up. “Zero.”

“He’s the real nerd with his—”

“Why do I feel like you’re making fun of me?”

Nancy turns her head to find Jonathan leaning against the doorway. “Because we are.” She beckons him to come closer and when he does, Steve tugs on his hands and pulls him forward.

Jonathan laughs. He kisses Steve and Nancy briefly and chastely, enough to make her warm all over. “It’s been a weird few days. We haven’t really had time to enjoy … this.”

“I was actually thinking …” Steve trails, flushing. “When was the last time you had human blood?”

“No way—”

“Are you crazy?”

Steve steps back. He sits on the ratty, torn-up mattress that will soon be where Nancy and Jonathan sleep every night. “I trust you. You asked me that when you thought you were in danger two days ago, and I said that didn't I? If I want you to do it, then why not? One of you can do it, and if you like, want to swallow all my blood, the other can pull ‘em off.”

Nancy falters. Her shoulders relax and she sits next to Steve, beckoning for Jonathan to join them. “If you really want.”

“Oh, _I want._ ”

Jonathan taps his foot against the wooden floor. “Mike’s in the other room!”

“Yeah,” Steve says slowly, smirking. “He’s in the _other_ room.”

“Nancy,” Jonathan says exasperatedly. He gestures at Steve as if to ask Nancy to deal with this.

She resists the grin tugging at her mouth, reaching out for Jonathan. “You’ve had a long day.” She takes his hand and pulls him down next to Steve. “It has been years …”

Jonathan loosens, his shoulders sagging. He narrows his eyes like he’s in deep thought, gaze lingering on Steve’s neck long enough for her to know he’s considering it. “You’re the one with the danger kink, huh?”

Steve lets out an indignant squeak. “Am not! Look, do I think it’ll feel good? Hell yeah. But I _trust_ you, and if I want to do it for you guys, then why not? It could be fun, but if it’s not, I’ll tell you right away. Promise. Besides, you can go first,” he adds, bumping his knee against Jonathan’s. “Since you were attacked.”

“I don’t want your blood because you feel bad.”

“I don’t feel bad,” Steve stresses, “I want to _feel_ you. It’s okay if you don’t want to, but I want to. My blood is obviously going to taste better than a rat’s, right? And this way you won’t feel bad, since you know that I want it. Plus, if it turns out to feel really good, then a bonus.”

Jonathan’s eyes get soft. He stops tapping his foot. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me.”

Nancy’s stomach tightens, not out of want, but the gravity of this moment. The last six and a half weeks have been a blur of laughter and old, oak trees, the lightest she’s ever felt in her life. She didn’t mean to get attached so quickly. This is the first time it doesn’t seem like a bad thing. “What’s the verdict, Jonathan?” She already knows his answer, knows by how there’s not a crease in his forehead, how his mouth is cracked into the slightest of smiles, and how he doesn’t look even a bit guilty—just grateful.

It’s kind of a miracle. It’s not like Nancy likes what she is, but she doesn’t see herself the way Jonathan does. She could never give him the approval he needed simply because she was like him too.

This means everything to Jonathan.

Judging from Steve’s small, almost shy smile, he knows this as well.

It takes another five minutes of Jonathan asking Steve questions, and then Jonathan’s shifting, moving to straddle Steve’s lap. Nancy stays put.

“You’re not coming in?” Steve says to Nancy. His slight pout quickly disappears when Jonathan pushes his hair away from his forehead.

“I’d like to watch,” she answers. She relishes in Steve’s blush and Jonathan’s half-smirk. “Besides, too much at once. If I were to touch you, then you couldn’t handle it.”

“I can handle two vampires. I can take it.”

“Maybe next time?” Jonathan clears his throat, alerting Steve to his now red eyes, visible fangs, and the faint, black lines underneath his eyes.

Steve doesn’t jump. His heartbeat doesn’t even change. He leans back to get a better look, curiously swiping his thumb over Jonathan’s eyelid. “Does it look the same for—”

“Yes,” Nancy answers. “Do you want to see?”

Steve nods, still dazed.

As easily as she breathes, she shifts with a simple blink. She has the same red eyes, fangs, and faint black lines as Jonathan. She waits for his terror, his heartbeat to run wild, but he only leans in to tenderly touch her cheek. “Huh.”

“Good huh?” Jonathan’s voice shakes.

“Great huh. This—this is good,” he says eagerly. He strokes their faces like he can’t keep his hands to himself.

“You’re turned on?” Nancy almost laughs. “That works for us. Not pulling it out in bed, though.”

“Wait, if you bit me, would I—”

“We’d’ have to give you our blood first, then kill you. You’re safe. Unless you don’t want us to bite—”

“Did I say that?” Steve interrupts with his teasing, cocky grin, making Nancy blush profusely.

She elbows Steve and crosses her legs at all the images he’s put in her head. “Get on with it.”

Nancy has never let herself imagine this situation, but when it unfolds in front of her, she can’t understand why. It’s not even the quiet, breathy noises Steve makes, the way he holds the back of Jonathan’s head, the sound of Jonathan’s tongue lapping determinedly against Steve’s neck—it’s the trust that mostly does it for her. Jonathan’s trust that Steve will tell him if it hurts. Steve’s trust that Jonathan won’t take it too far. Their trust in her to interfere if Jonathan needs to be restrained.

It doesn’t get that far, thankfully. Nancy offers to heal the bite mark. Steve turns her down, says he wants to know it’s there, wants people to see. After that, she can’t keep her hands to herself any longer.

She assumes Mike can’t hear what’s going on. He must be sleeping. An hour later, when she slips out of the guest room that they’ve officially made their own, wearing Jonathan’s _The Clash_ shirt, she’s proven wrong.

Mike sits at his small dining table. When he spots Nancy making her way into the kitchen, he raises his head from his phone. “Are you three assholes finally finished?”

She claps a hand over her mouth, freezing at the end of the table. “Oh my God, you could’ve told us!”

“I like Jonathan too much to embarrass him, and having to interrupt you, God, that would be disgusting.”

“Why didn’t you leave!?”

“I tend to wait two days before I leave the house when I’ve been attacked by a group of literal murderers!”

Nancy self-consciously yanks Jonathan’s shirt further down her body. “Let’s not talk for the next twelve hours.”

“Deal.”

.

.

.

Two weeks pass with no sign of Will.

“Don’t worry,” Mike says, “this doesn’t mean anything. He’s lived this long. Besides, he promised if anything happens, someone will tell us. He’s alive.”

Nancy waits for Jonathan to turn pale, to become sick with worry, but it never happens. “I have hope,” he says, unable to meet her eyes and fiddling with the zipper of his sweater.

She cups his face and forces him to look at her. “That’s a good thing,” she insists. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

They talk about the cure. Agree to talk about it deeply when they see Will. Neither explicitly say that they believe in it with everything they have, not needing to what with the hope in their eyes. They agree on not telling Steve yet. It’s too much right now. They don’t want to get his hopes up, not when everything’s so uncertain. When Will comes is when their hope will spread, grow in themselves and pass onto Steve, their mothers, and Holly.

“Your sister is the Chief?”

“Have you been arrested?” Nancy’s so appalled that she drops her burger onto her tray in the small diner they’re seated at, a mile out of Hawkins.

Steve rubs his eyes. It’s been two weeks since he started school and he’s still struggling to adjust. “I’m offended,” he says through a yawn. “I’ve never been arrested.”

“I don’t think Nancy gets to judge since we’ve killed so many things.”

“I’m not judging him, Jonathan. I wouldn’t care if you’ve been arrested. It’s just that my _sister_ is the Chief, so if she knows you through work, then you’re already giving a bad first impression.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want me to meet your sister eventually?”

She shoves her face with her burger. She can’t think of a way to make it seem like that wasn’t her implication, so she doesn’t bother trying. “Of course I do,” she admits.

Steve glows for the rest of their date.

Nancy doesn’t mean to get comfortable in her new—old?—life in Hawkins, but she does.

After a month passes with no signs of their attackers returning, she and Jonathan venture back into Hawkins. It had only been four weeks, but the relief that came with hugging her mother and Joyce had been overwhelming. She couldn’t imagine ever leaving them again.

She spends hours with her mother, baking, learning recipes, showing her mother tricks she learned from Murray’s garden, domestic things she always refused to do when her mother asked before everything.

She spends hours drinking chamomile tea with Joyce, talking about things like the news and love and Hawkins’ infrastructure.

She spends hours with Mike and Holly. The time is evenly split between them both and with all three, catching up. Mike introduces her to Jane and Max. Nancy rapidly becomes fond of them. Max makes dry comments about Mike and Jane says she’s happy that Nancy’s home. It would be impossible to dislike either of them. She finally meets Holly’s wife who asks no questions about Nancy’s ‘situation’. She’s lovelier than Nancy anticipated. Haley and Holly hold hands underneath the table during their weekly dinners and Nancy bites her tongue to keep from teasing her. Mike and Nancy play with and fawn over Callie. They relieve some of her favourite memories when Callie learns how to walk and subsequently how to run.

She spends hours with Jonathan. He occasionally joins her when she’s hanging out with her siblings and mother, but otherwise he’s with Joyce or Lucas and Dustin. They try catching him up to today’s cinema and the Marvel movies. Nancy sometimes joins, but she gets bored quickly. She complains about how all the characters look the same and how they’re the same white guy in a different setting. At Mike’s place, they cuddle, watch documentaries that remind them of Murray, she reads aloud to him, and he talks over the shows they binge together, always about the production and behind the scenes facts he looked up. (They’re currently on the fifth season of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. It’s hilarious and kind of perfect.)

She spends hours with Jonathan _and_ Steve. They back off a bit so he can focus on school, but weekends are theirs and a day or two after school each week. They trade kisses and wear out the ratty mattress on Nancy and Jonathan’s bed. Steve shows them to his favourite spots, and they hold hands, because no one really pays them mind. Steve tells them funny stories about school, as eager to share every detail as they are to hear it. He spends time at Mike’s place, laying over their laps. Mike pretends to be annoyed. (One day in October, Steve caught a cold. Nancy and Jonathan told him beforehand that they would visit Steve later to see how he was doing. Right before they left, they found a container of soup with a note from Mike. It read _this should help._ He can act like he doesn’t like Steve, but she knows the truth.)

It’s the best she’s ever felt. It’s a life with consistency, habits, and routine. It’s not like she didn’t have that before, but her life is now so full, so complete, with love. With her mother. Joyce. Her siblings. Mike’s friends. Steve and Jonathan.

Bad things will come. It’s a given. You don’t get to exist in your bubble of happiness for so long, especially when you’re a vampire, running on borrowed time. When any day now, you could be attacked. When you’ve finally let yourself want. When you’re Nancy Wheeler.

But fuck it. She’s going to enjoy it while it lasts. For so long, she had forgotten the exhilaration of impermanence. Do things, because you don’t have all the time in the world. Do things, because tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. Do things, because life ends, but you’re here now.

She’s going to lose almost everyone she loves one day, but they still have time. She might get attacked tomorrow, but today she’s with people she holds close to her heart. It will end, maybe, but she’s here now.

.

.

.

In the middle of September, Holly invites Nancy, Mike, and Jonathan over for dinner.

“What is taking you so long!? We pretty much have the same amount of hair, so do not tell me you’re still styling it.”

Jonathan shoves his hands into his pocket. “You’re sure Haley’s allergic to daisies and not lilacs, right?”

Nancy squeezes the bouquet of flowers tighter, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Yes. If not, well, I can always speed out, give them to mom or Joyce, and come back without them. Right?”

“Right. Are you nervous?”

“Only slightly. I do have to admit that part of that is because we might be late since Mike is a whole ass dick!”

“AS OPPOSED TO WHAT, PART OF A DICK!?”

“IT’S SOMETHING STEVE SAID, OKAY! HURRY THE FUCK UP, MIKE!”

“You seem nervous.” Jonathan rubs her shoulders and stares into her eyes. He looks very handsome in a black and denim jacket that Steve bought him. He accepted it with a lot of resistance and reluctance. His eyes crinkle with a comforting smile. “Haley will love you. You’re family.”

Nancy sighs. “I know, but I’m still anxious. Holly has to love me, you know? Part of it is at least obligatory, the way siblings do without ever choosing to. But Haley doesn’t. She might see me as the older sister who abandoned her wife, who caused her and the entire family needless pain, and she might not be wrong.”

He frowns and cups her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. “Hey, no, no one blames you, okay? Holly understands, and so will her wife. You’re not the villain for having a terrible thing happen and having to do something a little terrible to protect the people you love, but also yourself.”

“I love you.” She leans her head against his chest. “Thank you.”

“I love you too.”

Mike comes bursting into the room into the moment. He adjusts his tie. “How do I look?”

“Stupid,” Nancy says while Jonathan says, “Nice.”

“You look fine,” Nancy amends at the increase in Mike’s heartbeat. “Why are _you_ so nervous? Don’t tell me you’re worried about meeting an actual baby.”

Mike rolls his eyes. He smooths the back of his hair with one hand and uses the other to smooth down his pants. “Haley isn’t my biggest fan.”

“Oh, but you’re so delightful.” Nancy laughs when Mike scowls. “Hey, hey, I’m kidding. I’m sure it isn’t as bad as you think, but if it is, you can always change her mind. Maybe start by not fighting with Holly.”

“Holly’s the one who starts fighting with me.”

“And you fight back anyway. You’re eight years older than her. Act like it.”

“Okay. Fine. That’s fair.” He twirls his car keys in his hand. “Alright, I’m good. Let’s go.”

The drive takes about twenty minutes, but it flies by quickly. Nancy’s hands shake, the bouquet clenched between her fingers. Mike keeps bouncing on his feet and messing his hair.

“It’ll be okay,” Jonathan tells them, half-amused as they wait for the front door to be answered. “You’ve both done much scarier things.”

Nancy and Mike share a grin. It alleviates some of the tension, even as she hears Haley getting the door. Her heartbeat and scent are unrecognizable, but it won’t be for much longer.

The door pulls open. Haley stands on the other side, brown skin a little darker than in the pictures Nancy had been shown. Haley’s black hair is tied into a bun that Callie, who sits comfortably in Haley’s arms, reaches for. She has what appears to be a smidge of pudding on her nose. A handful of crayons are clutched in her other hand. “You’re fifteen minutes early. Holly’s still in the shower.”

Nancy’s about to apologize, but before she can, Haley’s face splits into a grin. “It’s so nice to meet you, Nancy, Jonathan. And Mike—” Her smile turns dry, for just a second, but brightens instantly. “It’s good to see you. You look well.” She sounds genuine.

“Thank you, Haley. You look—” Mike doesn’t finish his sentence.

Callie is thrust into his arms. “Take her for a second. She’s very clingy today, refuses to walk, which is fine, because she’s got so many visitors today who can hold her for as long as she wants.” Haley wraps her arms around Nancy tightly, warmly. Like they’re family already. Like they have been for years.

Nancy doesn’t waste a second. She squeezes back, so overcome with relief she could cry. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Jonathan, am I holding her properly, please tell me I am, why is she _kicking_ me—”

“Like mother like daughter,” Nancy snorts. She feels Haley’s body shake with laughter.

“You’re holding her fine,” Jonathan insists. “She likes your hair, huh?”

Nancy pulls apart from Haley in time to see Callie yank on a particularly long strand of Mike’s hair. “Eh. I don’t mind. Hi, there,” he coos, his voice the gentlest she’s ever heard it. “Nice to finally meet you. But the delay is probably my fault.”

Haley lets them inside. The house looks cleaner than usual from the handful of times Nancy has been inside these past few months. Toys aren’t littering the floor, the kitchen is nearly spotless, and mail isn’t scattered across the kitchen counter. “Everything’s been so hectic since I got back. My entire semester is a mix of freshmen and sophomores, which, adorable, but they’re a lot, you know? And this one is getting more energy, somehow, and Holly’s workload has died down since, you know, but she’s still the Chief so. Sorry we didn’t do this sooner!”

“If anyone should apologize about the delay in this lunch,” Nancy says, pulling a chair out. “It should be me.”

Haley doesn’t miss a beat. She continues rummaging through the pantries for cups as she says, “Nonsense. Apologies aren’t needed. All I care about is that my daughter has an aunt and an uncle—well, two, I suppose—that love her with everything. That my wife gets her family back. That I can get to know you both properly. But that last one isn’t as necessary as the first two,” she says, a little sheepishly.

“Nonsense,” Nancy echos. “Yes it is.”

“Neither of us are leaving anytime soon,” Jonathan adds. He doesn’t sit next to her; as she realizes it’s because he wants Holly to sit next to her instead, she suppresses a smile. Instead, he sits at the other end of the table. Mike sits to his right. “We plan on sticking around.”

“Me too,” Mike pipes up. “I’m sure Holly told you about. You know.”

Haley nods. She opens the fridge door, scanning the rows of juices. “Yup. I don’t need to tell you to be careful, do I?”

“Nope. But I am surprised you care enough to consider it.”

“Ha ha, very funny. What do you guys want to drink?”

Holly comes running into the kitchen a few minutes later. She pecks the corner of Haley’s mouth and makes silly faces at Callie who, surprisingly, hasn’t crawled out of Mike’s lap.

Nancy has rarely seen Holly out of her Chief’s uniform. She sports a pair of shorts and a slightly baggy sweatshirt, her hair down to her shoulders. She likes seeing her younger sister like this. Relaxed. Beaming. Content.

Lunch goes well. Haley made spaghetti and cheesecake. Callie rips up two lilacs before anyone notices she had the bouquet.

“Mike, why didn’t you stop her?” Holly asks, more amused than anything.

Mike shrugs. He flicks his gaze down to Callie, gaze warm. “She was having a good time. Let her live her life, Holly.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Hey!” Nancy says. She wipes the sauce off her mouth with a napkin. “Don’t bring me into this. I’m offended.”

“You should be.”

Holly reaches over and flicks Nancy’s used napkin at Mike’s head. “Stop it. I’m not tolerating Nancy slander in _my_ house.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Can you guys go, like, five minutes without doing that?” Nancy snaps.

Jonathan nods quietly while Haley takes another swig of her orange juice.

“No!” Holly and Mike say indignantly.

Holly glares at Mike. “Don’t do that.”

“Like I _wanted_ to.”

Sometimes, though Nancy would never admit this, she gets jealous of their banter. The only reason she doesn’t have it with Holly is because she never got to grow up with her, see her grow up. Holly loves her distantly. She’s too nice to say anything to Nancy that she would to Mike because she doesn’t know Nancy like that. It stings, but the truth usually does.

Holly’s halfway through an insult when she frowns. “Nancy, you okay?”

Nancy startles. “Yeah, I’m fine. Haley, can I have another helping, if that’s okay?”

“You can have all of it if you want. Lord knows Holly won’t touch it after today.”

“I told you, it just tastes better right after you cook it, not days after!”

Jonathan taps the table to get her attention. He mouths, “Are you sure?”

She nods. Flashes him a thin-lipped smile. Nearly shrieks at the tiny hand that snakes around her ankle. “You are horrifying,” she says fondly. She bends down to gently tug Callie away from underneath the table. “Careful there.”

“Mike, do not let my daughter wander _underneath_ a table.”

“I won’t after today. My bad.”

Callie lifts her arms towards Nancy’s lap. “No— _Nah_ —”

Jonathan drops his fork onto his plate. “Does she or does she not want to be in Nancy’s lap?”

Nancy’s just as confused as Jonathan. “I don’t know. I don’t get it.”

“Holy crap,” Mike says. “Is she going to—”

“Shh! Don’t jinx it!” Haley smiles. Her eyes glisten. “She stopped. Why did she stop? Everyone stop staring. We’re putting her under too much pressure.”

“C’mon, babe, our girl thrives under pressure. Remember she started walking when my mom kept her phone glued on her for twenty minutes while insisting that she wouldn’t leave our home until her granddaughter took her first steps? Wait. That’s not a good thing. Never-mind. Everyone look away!”

Ridiculously, they all follow Holly’s instructions. Except for Nancy. “No pressure from me, Callie. We’re here for awhile, you know. You’ve got plenty of time to do it. Plus your mom took forever to do it so it’s okay.”

Callie stares at her as though she’s thinking it over. She doesn’t have the same blue eyes that Holly and Nancy do, hers are dark brown instead, but the intensity of her gaze is familiar. Her small hands rest on Nancy’s knees. “Nancy! _Nancy!_ ” She starts to impatiently slam her fists against Nancy’s thighs.

Everyone cheers. Nancy laughs out of shock and also because of how annoyed Callie sounds, like she’s waiting for Nancy to get over it and pick her up already.

“Please?” Callie tries. It’s so soft and Nancy has to pick her up then, pulling her into her arms.

“Yeah, of course. Of course.” Everyone’s making noise. Someone is cooing, someone else is hitting another person to get their phone out—Holly and Mike no doubt—but she can’t focus on it. Can only focus on her niece nestled against her chest, calm and quiet for the first time today.

.

.

.

“Don’t wake her up. You’ll wake Callie up, and none of us want that.”

“But I want her to try my cheesecake, it’s so good, Hales!”

“Babe, I know. But you’ll get to make her another cheesecake. It’s almost November, so she’s been here, what, four months? You’re not losing her.”

Nancy stiffens. She keeps her eyes shut, stifling the yawn rising in her throat. She can feel a warm comforter draped over her, something smaller and even warmer curled up on her chest. Something _drooling._

They were colouring before they fell asleep, she recalls, until Callie broke a crayon, flung it across the room, and crawled onto Nancy. The rest is a blur.

“It’s not that I’m afraid,” Holly sighs. There’s a pause. “I mean, maybe I am, a little. It’s just that there’s so much we don’t have. I want inside jokes and _things_ that are ours and for her to know me in that annoying way Mike does. Like how Mike knows where I am in the house based on how I walk. Could she recognize me based on my footsteps?”

“She might smell you,” Haley tries joking. “Look, I understand what you mean. You’ve lost enough time. But it’s all a process. She loves you, you love her, and it’s already been proven blood isn’t your only link. You’re getting there.”

There’s no mistaking the sound of Holly breaking into a fit of tears, Haley’s quick and soothing. “I’ve got you” is the only thing that doesn’t shatter Nancy’s heart.

She doesn’t get up. She tightens her grasp on Holly to ignore her guilt.

But when she leaves, when Mike and Jonathan are waiting for her in the car, she begs Holly to give her the recipe, hugs her extra tight, and tells her about the Pascal fiasco. “Lucas and Dustin have forgotten about it, I think. Maybe we can keep it going?”

Holly’s grin is blindingly bright.

Not only does she get the best dessert she’s had in her life, the guarantee that her and her little sister will _finally_ team up to annoy Mike, and a night in with her sister and her family.

She also gets the look of pure joy on Holly’s face. That has to be the best part.

.

.

.

“What’re you watching?”

“None of your fucking business,” Mike snorts.

Nancy rolls her eyes. She knocks his feet off of his coffee table and sits next to him on his sofa in front of his laptop where a television show she doesn’t recognize plays. “It is when it’s keeping me up.”

Mike widens his eyes. He hastily pauses his show. “Shit, am I keeping Jonathan up?”

“No, he’s a heavy sleeper.”

“Okay, then I don’t care.”

She knees his thigh and grabs a handful of chips from the bag on his lap. “I’m watching with you.”

“Yeah, okay,” he says.

She doesn’t let her surprise show, just makes a pleased sound as he continues the episode. “What’s the context?”

“It’s a sitcom. What? Did you expect me to want to watch depressing TV shows? Life’s bad enough. I need as much joy as I can get, even if it’s in the form a weekly, twenty-minute NBC show.”

“Did I fuck you up for life?”

Mike freezes. He turns to look at her with his mouth agape, crestfallen. “Nancy …”

“It’s just—I’m not saying you don’t have a good life, that you aren’t a good person, but—you talk about life like it’s a war, and I know that it has been for you. You didn’t know about Callie. Mom was so worried about you that she never told me that there was anything to worry about. You always have bags underneath your eyes, Dustin and Lucas told Jonathan that you have trouble sleeping, I—”

“Nancy,” he interrupts gently, touching her wrist. “You didn’t do anything. Your disappearance fucked me up, yeah, but what choice did you have? I can’t get mad at you when I don’t know what I would’ve done in your shoes. When you had my best interest in mind. I know I was upset when I saw you first, but—that was years of anger boiling over and I didn’t know where to put it. So I put it out on you.”

“I deserve it, okay, I just left—”

“You don’t, okay? I’ll tell you as often as you need to hear it. You were looking for your friend. You were doing good. You didn’t _know._ ”

“I have to take responsibility—”

Mike lets out a sharp, bitter laugh. “For what? For some fucked-up assholes getting upset that two seventeen year-olds outsmarted them? For wanting justice for your friend? No. You don’t. Sometimes you get to be angry. Sometimes you get to be upset. Sometimes—sometimes a problem you have isn’t a problem you caused, and you can’t blame yourself for it. Do you, and be honest, blame yourself for it?”

It’s already too late to stop herself from crying. She didn’t know it could take so much tension out of her body. “I blame myself for _your_ pain, for Holly’s, for mom’s. That’s what I blame myself for,” she chokes out, and it feels like a sin spit out in a confessional, like she’s repenting.

Mike places one hand on her shoulder and another on her cheek, using his thumb to wipe her tears away. “I don’t. Is that what you need to hear? I don’t blame you. None of us do. It was a shitty situation and you did your best. Do you want me to get Jonathan or—”

“No, I’m fine. I just—can we sit here? Watch something for a little bit?”

He smiles and plays the rest of the episode.

Before the end credits roll, she mumbles, “Thank you” into his shoulder. She receives his arm wrapped around her shoulders in response.

.

.

.

“You’re nervous.”

“Am not.”

Jonathan raises an eyebrow at Nancy. “You see it too, right?”

Nancy licks the back of her spoon, swallowing a sprinkle. “Your heartbeat gives you away, you know. I was waiting for you to mention it.”

Steve squawks. He gazes out of the window at Don’s ice cream shop momentarily before shaking his head. “Fine. Don’t laugh.”

“We wouldn’t.” Jonathan nods encouragingly.

“There’s this thing at school, a bonfire.”

“They still do that? The senior tradition?” Nancy always looked forward to it with Barb. An uncomfortable knot twists in her stomach that she doesn’t quite push away. She lets it sit there. It’ll pass. It always does.

Steve’s eyes widen with his spoon still in his mouth. “Yeah. Well, we can each invite someone from like a different grade or a different school. Here’s my pitch: Tommy will be there, loads of s’mores, free drinks, juice-boxes included, and I really, really want you there.”

“Don’t you want to spend time with your friends? That’s the whole point of the tradition, isn’t it?” Nancy doesn’t want to distract Steve from his last year of high school. She and Jonathan have been careful to give him _some_ space to do work, to spend time with Tommy. He’s pretty annoyed about it, but they won’t budge on this.

“Yeah, but everyone brings their girlfriend or boyfriend. And Tommy will still be there, and we’ll always be friends, so it’s not like this is our last chance to spend time together. I just—I dunno, I want you guys there. Besides, you guys never got to do it. I know you don’t want to risk any dances or school events in case old teachers or whatever recognize you and that’s fine, but this is unsupervised, remember? It’ll be fun! Dustin has great stories from his—”

“Since when do you and Dustin talk?” Jonathan interrupts, amused.

Steve shrugs. “We talk at those weekly hangouts at Mike’s. He’s cool. I think everyone is still freaked out by me, but not him.”

“They’re not freaked out,” Nancy says defensively.

Jonathan snorts as he crumples his empty container. “They are.”

Nancy winces, thrumming her fingers alongside the edge of the table. “Okay, but they still like you.”

“Mike doesn’t,” Steve says.

“Mike likes you. Trust me.”

“You have to say that.”

“No, I don’t. Jonathan, tell him!”

Jonathan’s mouth cracks into a smile. “He does like you, I think. He just doesn’t like showing it. That’s all. Back to the bonfire?”

“Right, yeah,” Steve says. “No pressure to come or anything. But it would be nice.”

“It would be,” Nancy agrees.

So they go. It’s bizarre to be in the woods for a number of reasons, like the fact that most of the time these three have spent in the woods have been dedicated to monster hunting, but strangely it’s mostly because of how _teenage_ the setting is. Portable speakers blaring music. Red solo cups. Weed brownies passed around. An actual fire that concerns Nancy because _these_ people are keeping an eye over it?

But it does end up being nice. Steve happily introduces them as their friends, but doesn’t keep his hands to himself. No one really cares, and that’s even better.

The bizarreness intensifies when she and Jonathan recognize some of Steve’s classmates as children of _their_ classmates. They pull faces at each other and guess who ended up with who. “I cannot believe they named their daughter Ruth,” Nancy scoffs, scraping her fingers against the log that she and Jonathan are sitting on. Steve had leapt up to his feet five minutes ago after Tommy spilled beer over his sweatshirt.

Jonathan scoffs. “Her parents named her Maureen. It makes sense she would keep up the tradition of old, grandmotherly names.”

“I stand by Maureen being a good name.”

“You’re not naming our children,” Jonathan teases.

She bumps her shoulder against his. “Our children, huh? So we’re hoping now? Talking about it?”

“Oh, I don’t—I don’t know, is that okay?”

“Of course it is! I like it. I like it a lot.” Over the sound of music and dozens of teenagers laughing and yelling at each other, she finally feels like a teenager too. Like she’s (really) seventeen and has a future and a life meant to be lived in front of her.

Nancy leans her head against Jonathan’s shoulder. “Do you?”

“I love it.”

Tommy, now wearing a grey sweater, walks up to them. He walks perfectly fine, but Steve still has his arm wrapped tightly around his best friend’s waist. “Hey! Oh my God, it’s been so long! How _are_ you guys?”

Nancy laughs. She stands up from the log. The beer in her plastic cup sloshes, a drop landing on her shoe. “Great. And yourself?”

“Excellent! But not as excellent as Stevie here. Boy’s been on Cloud 9 for months. All thanks to you two. Seriously! I’m only slightly offended that you two make him happier than me, but—”

“Dude, please relax, now is _not the time,_ Tommy, and you do make me very—”

“I wasn’t finished, dick-wipe!” Tommy pauses. He scratches his chin. “Wait. What was I saying?”

“That we make Steve very happy,” Jonathan says. He grins at Steve and rests his hand on Nancy’s waist.

“Oh, but you guys already knew that, didn’t you?” Steve playfully shoves Tommy. “Didn’t need this doofus to tell you that.”

“Yeah, but it still sounds nice,” Nancy says. Steve’s cheeks are bitten cold from the October wind. She wants to kiss his cheeks until they’re warm and she _can,_ so she does.

Steve laughs, squirming but not away from her. “Nance, c’mon.”

“What? You’re cold. I can warm you up.”

“Nancy, you’re so cheesy.” Jonathan peppers Steve’s other cheek with kisses anyway, his laughter mixing with Steve’s.

“So cute!” Tommy sways on his feet as he sighs contently. “Carol! Carol, hi, I missed you!”

“Aw, would you look at this. Stevie, the invite said you had a plus one option. Plus. One. Not plus two.” There’s no genuine irritation in Carol’s voice. It’s more fond than anything else.

Nancy draws back to lean her head against Steve’s shoulder. His arm slips around Nancy’s waist, the other doing the same to Jonathan. Steve grins. “Well, I’ve always been bad at math.”

.

.

.

 

“So what happened to the other thirty-something kids?”

“The government _never_ wanted to investigate these children? They were fine with seven children raised by a clearly abusive millionaire, fighting crime and _killing_ without any repercussions?”

“Seven—but Vanya doesn’t have any powers.”

“Steve, she so obviously does.”

Jonathan nods, shaking his head at the television. “Nancy is right. If her plot’s about her being ordinary, she’s going to find out—”

“You guys are so fucking annoying!” Steve laughs. He points the remote towards the television to pause the current Netflix original he’s introducing them to. “I like you guys a lot, but also _please_ stop.”

Jonathan’s eyes crinkle with a smile. “You wanted us to watch with you.” He rubs his eyes as Nancy stands up to turn the lights back on.

“Until you went on probably spoiling the show and ruining it for me.”

“Sorry,” Nancy says sheepishly, returning to the sofa quickly. She nestles her head on Steve’s shoulder and spreads her legs out on Jonathan’s lap.

Steve smiles. “It’s okay.” He leans in to kiss Nancy and she hums against his mouth.

“Have any homework?” Jonathan idly taps his fingers against Steve’s thigh.

“Nope. I finished it today.”

Nancy and Jonathan share a shocked look.

“Why is this so surprising? Last time you guys said you didn’t want to be in the way of my education, and you seemed pretty upset so like. I did my work before coming over.”

“All of it?” Jonathan raises an eyebrow.

Steve rolls his eyes, dropping a kiss against Jonathan’s earlobe. “All of it,” he murmurs. “Even calculus.”

“I am seriously turned on,” Nancy deadpans.

“Are you serious?”

Jonathan snorts. “Show her an A on any test or assignment you’ve done and she might come on the spot.”

“Forgive me if I find your success to be sexy.” She stretches to poke Jonathan in the stomach and relishes in his yelp.

“This is actually working for me,” Steve says.

“And yet we have the weird kinks,” Jonathan grumbles.

“Like your blood kink isn’t weird!”

“We _need_ blood to live, what the fuck are you—”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. You know I’m into it.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes, smiling nonetheless as he leans across Nancy to kiss Steve. They meet in the middle and kiss, lazily and open-mouthed, Jonathan’s fingers tangling in Steve’s hair.

It would be hot if Nancy couldn’t hear her sister stepping off an elevator a few feet away.

“Shit,” Nancy hisses. She yanks Steve upright. “Holly’s coming up. Oh fuck. Oh _fuck._ Steve, hide.”

Steve scrunches his face up. He scowls but still jumps to his feet. “You don’t want her to meet me!?”

“I don’t want my _mother_ to find out.”

“Okay, that’s fair—”

But the key’s already jingling in the lock. Nancy’s tempted to carry him and speed him into their bedroom, but there isn’t enough time to ask him if that’s okay. She resigns herself to her fate.

Holly steps in, sans Chief uniform, with Callie running into the apartment in front of her.

Callie runs into Nancy, raising her hands into the air.

Nancy scoops her niece into her arms. “Hey, Cal. It’s your aunt, do you remember, do you remember my name?”

“Nancy!”  

“Of course she remembers your name.” Holly’s eyes twinkle at the sight of Nancy raising Holly into the air. She shoots a smile at Jonathan and kicks the door behind her shut. She narrows her eyes slightly at Steve. “Hello, Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jonathan, would you two like to introduce me to your friend?”

“Hi, Chief Wheeler.” Steve straightens. He looks like he’s seconds away from saluting Holly. “I’m Steve, and your daughter’s adorable. So is your sister. And your kind of brother-in-law.”

When they explain who Steve is, Holly doesn’t freak out. She throws her head back and laughs, exclaiming that she cannot possibly tell Karen. Nancy’s so fucking relieved that she doesn’t get disappointed when Callie gestures to be let down to the floor.

“You wanna hold her? She’s a lot to handle.” Holly beckons Callie to come closer. She swiftly unzips Callie’s jacket as Callie determinedly works to get her shoe off.

“If I can handle these two, I can handle her. Maybe. It looks like she’s going to—oh, she has good aim, she almost hit me!” Steve squats until he’s at eye-level with Callie and  sticks his tongue out at her.

Callie sticks her tongue out back. “Ew!”  

Jonathan slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle his laugh.

“Oh, my bad, do you want me to stop? I can stop.”

Callie proceeds to spit on Steve, not _spit up,_ but deliberately spit on his nose.

Holly shrieks, and Nancy and Jonathan don’t bother trying to hide their laughter. “I’m so sorry—” Holly starts to apologize, but Steve waves a hand out, smiling.

“‘S fine. It’s just spit. But I want revenge, Tiny Wheeler,” he says, making his voice higher. He moves his feet in place, motioning the act of running, and waits until she’s a few feet away to chase her around the apartment. He looks silly, pulling faces at Callie, making her laugh loud enough that it sounds like she’s crying. Nancy can’t look away.

“He knows?” Holly unbuttons her jacket and gestures to Steve with a head tilt.

Jonathan nods, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Yup. He’s … I don’t know, we thought he’d run for the hills. He was spooked for a minute there, but got over it quickly. I mean, I guess it makes sense, right? He would be too normal for us otherwise.”

This makes Holly grin as she shrugs her jacket off, dropping it onto Mike’s sofa. “As if your lives weren’t weird enough,” she teases, “but he seems good. You both deserve someone good in your lives, and the more the merrier, right?”

Nancy chuckles. She reaches forward to gently push Holly’s arm. “I don’t think that’s what people mean when they say that, but whatever. Thanks for not flipping shit. Pascal lost his mind.”

“Pascal? You’re doing this to Mike?” Jonathan says incredulously, like he can’t comprehend them wanting to annoy Mike.

“He deserves it,” Holly and Nancy huff at the same time, snapping their heads to share grins.

“Where is Pascal, by the way?”

“Think he went out with his friends. They’re watching Ghostbusters or something. I think it’s a tradition. It’s—fuck, it’s Halloween!?”

“Language!” Holly hisses.

Nancy grimaces and eyes Steve and Callie. He’s pretending to look for as she hides behind a curtain, her toes wiggling in plain sight. “Sorry. But it’s _Halloween?_ ” They don’t lose track of holidays. She just can’t believe it’s already Halloween, that she’s spent four months back home. It simultaneously seems shorter and longer than that, like it’s been a day _and_ a few lifetimes.

“Steve,” Jonathan calls out, “don’t you have, like, parties to go to? For Halloween?”

“Sure,” Steve says casually, stomping around as yanks on the curtain to earn a giggle out of Callie. “But I’d rather be here. Besides, your movie commentary is scary enough. Kidding.”

Jonathan ducks his head and Nancy can’t stop beaming. “Your commentary is horrifying,” she says, “I mean, you’re right, the camerawork is _so_ disastrous!”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Yeah, but I like it. I like noticing things I wouldn’t have noticed before.”

“Yeah? Well I like you.”

“Do either of you like Chinese? I’ve been waving this menu in front of your faces for thirty seconds?”

Nancy blinks, belatedly registering the menu held out in front of her eyes. “Sorry,” she apologizes to Holly, not really meaning it, “I got distracted.”

Holly smirks. “You two are adorable, but I’m starving.”

It’s only a few weeks later that Steve meets another important person in their lives: Joyce.

Nancy reminds him, probably a thousand times, not to bring up Will. It’s been extremely difficult for Jonathan not to tell her. They’ve tried racking their brains to figure out why Will would contact his friends but not his mother, but have come up with nothing. They’ll ask him when they finally see him again, but it’s still difficult to see Jonathan tense whenever Will is mentioned. Nancy can see him swallow the truth as he looks away, just for one second, and continues the conversation.

Steve doesn’t bring it up. He smiles, talks too quickly, and compliments Joyce’s cooking with extreme earnestness and enthusiasm.

It’s a nice dinner, so normal and simple.

Joyce asks Nancy if she wants to introduce Steve to Karen, only for her to break into laughter. Jonathan tries really hard not to laugh, but Nancy laughs so hard that he gives in.

Steve stares at them, his glass of water held in mid-air. “Am I missing something?”

“My mother would die,” Nancy says. “She can handle the vampire thing, but for now, she definitely cannot take this.”

Joyce wipes her eyes. “She could take it, but you’ve got to open yourself to an hour of confused yelling.”

“Well, I’m certainly not strong enough for that, Joyce, but thank you.”

.

.

.

“Captain America is the best, and if you disagree with me, I might have to end this relationship.”

“What if one of us agrees and the other disagrees?” Nancy says, mostly teasing, not expecting him to tilt his head to the side and _think about it._

“Stay with one, dump the other,” Dustin chimes in through a mouthful of a chicken wing, Lucas rolling his eyes as he wipes Dustin’s chin for him. “Thanks.”

“It was bothering me,” Lucas murmurs. He leans over to take a bite from Dustin’s chicken wing. “I say dump ‘em both. That means one is _with_ and _okay_ with a Captain America hater.”

“I don’t think he’s that great.” Mike lifts his head up from his position sprawled on the floor.

“We don’t think you’re that great either.” Max doesn’t bat an eye when Mike gives her the finger. She throws a crumpled wrapper at him.

El stretches, shifting her head from Mike’s lap. They’re the only two sitting on the floor. Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan are comfortably squished on one sofa, with Dustin, Lucas, and Max sit on the other, all facing the television while Mike, taking a million years, sets up _Infinity War._ Jonathan took his time with the series, hence why it’s already November and he’s finally on the last film.

“Thor is underrated,” Jane says.

Everyone agrees. “He’s pretty,” Nancy says, playing with Jonathan’s hair.

“You know who Thor is.” Nancy already knows she’s going to be annoyed by the rest of Mike’s sentence. “But you don’t know who Ironman is?”

Nancy rolls her eyes. She doesn’t want to move, too comfortable with Steve’s head on her lap and her head resting on Jonathan’s shoulder, so she wags her foot in his general direction in front of her. “He and Batman are the same person. Fight me.”

“You haven’t answered my question, Nance. You too, Johnny Boy.”

Jonathan hums thoughtfully. He stops stroking Steve’s calf, thrumming his fingers against his ankle instead. “You didn’t technically ask. You made a statement. _But_ I like him. He’s probably my favourite along with T’Challa.”

“Whoa, I just realized you’ve already seen Black Panther!” Lucas exclaims. “You guys watched it without me?”

“You were sick.” Max passes him a napkin, slightly frowning. “And you know us. We were yelling and shouting, and that wouldn’t have made you feel better, dip-shit.”

“Jonathan loved it, if that helps,” Dustin adds.

“The cinematography was indescribable. Sorry you missed it, bud.”

Lucas hums. “Can you guys even get sick?”

Nancy shakes her head. “Nope. We can get badly injured to the point where it'll take some time to heal, but that's as close to being hurt as it gets.”

“So,” Steve says directly into Nancy’s hair, “your blood can heal us, right? If I get sick, does that still apply?”

Everyone stares at Nancy and Jonathan expectantly. Nancy meanwhile just gawks at Jonathan, who gawks back at her. “I don't … know?”

“‘Cuz I’ve been coughing for a week, and, to be honest, I'm semi-annoyed you haven't offered.”

“You would've turned it into a sex thing,” Jonathan says with a faint smile.

Lucas throws a stuffed pillow at Jonathan’s head. “Dude,” he groans, “you're the closest thing I have to an older brother. Stop.”

Nancy absentmindedly pats where the pillow grazed Jonathan’s head.

“Yesterday when you guys shared a beer, you offered me a sippy cup,” Steve says flatly. “I’m seventeen too.”

Dustin snorts. “You're a child. A baby.”

“A _loud_ baby,” Lucas adds. He catches the pillow when Jonathan flings it back at him.

“But we like babies!” Max insists, glaring at Dustin and Lucas. “Just don't forget when we look at you, we see a talking infant.”

Steve chuckles dryly. He rolls over on Nancy and Jonathan’s laps, burying his head in her side. “I didn't expect my senior year to consist of spending time with senior citizens.”

“You're in my place, using my Netflix account, calling me a senior citizen,” Mike says. “You're lucky you're dating Nancy and Jonathan.”

Steve smiles up at them both. “I am.”

Jane’s smile is small. She cranes her head to look at Max. “Were we like this?”

“This annoying?” Max scoffs while Lucas, Dustin, and Mike say, “Yes,” and Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve mumble, “probably.”

Everyone talks during the film. Jonathan has genuine, thoughtful questions that make Steve stutter. Nancy complains half-heartedly, mostly egging Steve on to rant. Jonathan makes an innocent quip about how they should've played “Another One Bites the Dust” in the last scene. Everyone, including Nancy, laughs so hard that Mike needs to pause the film.

.

.

.

“My break starts soon.”

“Winter break already?” Jonathan punctuates his question by tapping Steve’s foot with his own.

Steve rolls over. He holds his face up with his hand, elbow digging into the mattress in Mike’s spare room—their room, technically.

Nancy raises her head. She squints at the light outside, watching the snow fall. “I mean, it _is_ winter.”

“And December 17th,” Steve adds.

Jonathan pretends to groan, his faint smile giving him away. “My bad. How are applications going?”

Steve’s smile freezes. He scratches the back of his head. “About that. I was thinking of taking a gap year, actually.”

“Steve,” Nancy says slowly. She sits up. “You can’t rearrange your life for us.”

“Who said it was for you?”

Nancy and Jonathan share a guilty look. They’ve told Steve a little bit. So basically they know all that they do. How their might be something out there, something that could help fix _them,_ but they didn’t know for sure.

“We’re not getting our hopes up,” Nancy had quickly said. It was a half-lie.

Steve’s smile was a small, bright thing as they spoke, sunlight spilling out when he let himself grin. “Too late for me. Is it—I mean, how—”

“We don’t know much,” Jonathan said gently. “Just that it might take a long time and it’s seriously dangerous. Will will tell us more when we finally see him.”

“We’re focussing on the now, though. Not worrying about the cure or what could happen. Let’s just focus on this moment right here, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. He took both their hands into his. “Sounds good.”

Now, the same hope in his eyes returns. “I know it might seem like I am, but I really just need a second, well, a year, to figure some shit out. Get out of Hawkins. Maybe work. And if helping you two get the key to your happy ending—”

“Ending,” Nancy mumbles. She pushes his chest, dragging him to lay down with them. “As in we’re not there yet. Who knows if we could even get it? If it’s _possible?_ We know next to nothing about it, but one thing for sure is that you’re not coming with us.”

“Nance, c’mon, I—”

“We’re not there yet,” Jonathan says calmly. “We don’t have to talk about this now. It’s already December and Will hasn’t showed up yet, so—”

“He will,” Nancy cuts in. She cups his jaw, pressing her nose against his. “He will.”

Steve mumbles in agreement. He snuggles up to Jonathan from behind, kissing the back of his neck. “I can’t wait to meet him. Do you think he’ll be taller than you?”

Jonathan laughs. “Maybe. It would be extremely weird.”

“You have a blood kink,” Steve mumbles into Jonathan's back.

He makes a quiet, disgruntled sound, long since given up correcting Steve.

“You're dating two vampires.” Nancy raises an eyebrow. “You're also considering making a huge life decision based on us. Much weirder.”

Steve groans. He swings his leg over Jonathan to pull Nancy closer. “You two would never let me go with you, yeah, yeah. But honestly. It's for me, mostly. There's more to life than just school. Life won't end if I take a year-long pause.”

“Promise,” Nancy murmurs. Her voice cracks.

Steve's eyes soften. “I promise you both that this is for me. Okay?”

“Okay.” She reaches across Jonathan’s chest to place her hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“We aren’t letting you get hurt. Ever. You know that'll always stand, right?” Jonathan asks.

“Of course I know that. The past six months have been … unreal. I know we're not talking about later, but I've got a good feeling about this. About us. Besides, I couldn't be with anyone after this. You two have ruined anyone else for me.”

Nancy glows. “Sorry?”

Steve chuckles. “Trust me, that's a good thing.”

Jonathan hums, pulling them closer.

Snow falls quietly in the distance, but they're warm, curled up together. She wouldn't have it any other way.

.

.

.

The holidays come and go.

Steve leaves town the day after school ends for break to visit extended-family in New York.

Though she would've preferred to spend the holidays with him, she can't complain. The holidays were picture-perfect, straight out of a Hallmark movie. Everyone—Jonathan, Mike, Dustin, Lucas, El, Max, Holly, Haley, Callie, Joyce, and Karen—in her childhood home, surrounded by lively Christmas music, an over-decorated Christmas tree, and hot chocolate was a dream she didn't know she had.

“Will’s coming soon,” Mike says in lieu of a greeting. He sits across from Jonathan and Nancy on the carpeted floor.

“I believe you,” Jonathan says over the loud chatter, “but I'm starting to worry about if he's okay or not. It's been half a year, Mike.”

“It can't be much longer. It's stupid, but I feel it.”

Nancy foots Mike’s thigh. “It's not stupid. Your sweater, though? _Meowy Christmas?_ Awful.”

“Mom made me,” Mike grumbles.

Steve returns to Hawkins two days later. They all spend New Years together.

Raining in the new year with the people she loves is a quiet joy. Karen and Joyce remain seated in the kitchen for most of the night. They tell stories, gushing and fawning over the kids and Callie, and the latest book they’re reading for book club. They’ve known about Steve for weeks at this point and have met him a handful of times. They hug him and beam at him, asking about school.

(Nancy was surprised by how well her mom took it. Then she figured that all of her children have been complete surprises. They effectively taught her that strange things will happen and you’ll lose your mind if you don’t accept it and move on.)

Dustin, Lucas, El, Steve, and Nancy pass drinks back and forth. Jonathan happily goes through Steve’s juice-boxes (he brought dozens for the night) and shares them with Max and Mike. They crowd Mike’s living room where the television, live-streaming a countdown in New York Square, is forgotten until it’s five minutes to midnight.

The night is a blur of laughter, lukewarm drinks, and stolen kisses between Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve when the kids aren’t looking or are too distracted to give them shit for it.

When the clock strikes midnight, they try kissing each other, all three at the same time. It goes better than Nancy will admit.

In the morning, they FaceTime Murray who had spent the occasion with his poker-werewolf buddies and who brightens at the sight of them. She misses him in a weird way, but he’s happy and safe and still terrible at poker. He’s good and so are they.

“We miss you,” Jonathan tells Murray honestly. “You did so much for us.”

“It went both ways,” Murray admits over the call. “I was lonely, and then I got a call about two baby vampires who needed my help, and I wasn’t lonely anymore. It’s okay if you don’t come back. I encourage you not to, actually. Just keep in touch, okay? Don’t get into too much trouble. Enjoy the lives you’ve built for yourselves. Enjoy what you couldn’t, all these years.”

“You taught us how to be vampires and still be human,” Nancy says through the lump in her throat. “Of course we’re staying in touch.”

They don’t see him face-to-face until February. There are three more holes in the walls and the house is even messier with files from his current case that Murray claims reminds him of Nancy and Jonathan’s “case”. _Ah, the nostalgia,_ he says with a wistful smile that is knocked off at the pointed look they send him.

But he’s still using his cane and it doesn’t feel like it’s been months since they’ve actually seen him, not when they call him once a week. Over the five-day duration of their stay, Nancy watches documentaries involving unsolved crimes with him each night and argues over what they each believe happened. Jonathan lets Murray teach him poker. The game that ensues with Murray and his werewolf buddies is strangely calm considering how the werewolves sit in their form, calm with their bit of fur and claws, until Jonathan manages to win and everyone, Nancy excluded, is baffled.

They head back to Hawkins on a Wednesday.

“We’ll visit you again at the end of March, if that’s alright.” Jonathan drops his bag by the doorway and pulls Murray into a hug.

Murray makes a muffled noise. He looks at Nancy from over Jonathan’s shoulder, an eyebrow raised, mouth turned into a smile. “I’ll hold you to it. You could teach me a thing or two about poker, get me to win in my lifetime.”

“Jonathan’s not a miracle worker, you know.” Nancy adjusts the strap of her duffel bag from over her shoulder as she replaces Jonathan, pulling Murray into a one-armed hug. “We’ll visit you. End of March.”

They end up visiting sooner than that. But Nancy still takes in the sight of the house and the empty hallways, of Murray’s hand clenched around his cane, and his moon-shaped glasses like she’ll be gone for months.

“You okay?” Jonathan taps his fingers against the steering wheel.

Nancy nearly jumps at the sound of his voice, only now registering that she hasn’t said a word in the car for ten minutes. “It’s weird leaving. We spent so much time with him, so now it’s just strange. Not as strange as you beating four grown werewolves, though.”

Jonathan laughs. “Yeah, well. It’s definitely as strange as you actually missing Murray.”

“I do not!”

“You do too, and it’s okay. You’re right. We did spend a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t miss him that much.”

“We’ll call him as soon as we get back to Hawkins. Sound okay?”

“... Yes.”

.

.

.

They take Steve out after the day before his spring break starts, in the middle of March.

“Apparently this is where Holly and Haley met,” Nancy says, pushing the front door of a small, quiet cafe in the heart of Hawkins.

Steve abruptly stops. He ignores Jonathan’s scowl after walking right into Steve’s back. “Dude. Their ship name would be _Holey._ How fucking raw is that?”

“Are you high?” Jonathan smiles anyway and gives Steve a gentle push forward, towards the booth Nancy’s already sitting in.

“On our relationship? Yes, I am.”

“Not even ours,” Nancy snorts while removing her jacket. “My sister’s.”

“Love is love is love, right?” Steve slides into the seat across from Nancy, blissful and beaming.

Nancy meets Jonathan’s gaze as he settles next to her and laughs. “Maybe he is high.”

“Can you guys get high?”

She looks up from the menu in her hands. “Probably. I’ve never tried. I can get drunk, but I need more than you would. I don’t particularly like it. One time I got shit-faced and I almost bit Murray’s arm off. It’s not great for my control.”

Steve frowns. He lightly nudges Jonathan, who’s sitting next to him. “Is it the same for you?”

He lowers his gaze, picking at a loose thread in his shirt. “I don’t mess with anything, actually. My dad is or was, I have no idea which, but uh, he was a heavy drinker. I don’t think alcohol itself ruined him, he would be terrible with or without it, but it escalated everything. Plus his dad died of liver failure, which, _wonder why,_ so it’s probably in my genes, you know?”

She touches Jonathan’s knee from underneath the table. She hopes it conveys how proud she is of him, specifically how steady his voice remains, and how it would be okay if it wasn’t.

“Shit, dude, I didn’t know—”

“And why would you?” Jonathan covers Steve’s hand with his own. “It’s fine. Get as high as you want.”

“I’m legitimately _not_ high, but okay.”

“What about you? You never really talk about your parents. No pressure,” she adds.

Steve shrugs, picking at his muffin. “Not much to say. My mom’s cool, but she’s a lawyer, head of her firm, so she’s not home often. She’s great when she’s there. My dad does _something_ in business, truly I have no idea. He’s … he’s whatever. He’s not abusive, but he’s not great. It feels weird to say he isn’t the worst piece of shit there is so at least it’s not that bad, but … yeah.”

“Hey, I get it,” Nancy says softly. “Dads are typically at least a little bit terrible. It’s a weird relationship, if you can even call it that.”

Steve smiles weakly. “Yeah. So you and your dad, then?”

“I didn’t come in for his funeral, but I came when Joyce broke her hip. Granted, it would’ve been shady had I gone to his funeral, but … it never crossed my mind to risk it. With Joyce, I didn’t bother considering the risks for a single second. That about sums it up.”

“That’s—fuck. You know, you guys deserve better and—”

“We know,” Jonathan interrupts, smiling.

“You’d be a great dad.” Nancy clamps her mouth shut as soon as she realizes what she’s said.

Steve stiffens. “Uh, yeah. Thanks. Do you guys ever—I mean. Have you let yourself think about what could happen? If there is something that could change you back, back into humans,” Steve whispers, despite there not being anyone else near them except for the bored waitress behind the counter. “What would you guys want to do?”

“Have a normal life,” Jonathan says immediately. “Yes, I know, _shocking,_ coming from me. I mean, I dunno, I want something simple. Settle down. Go to NYU like I always wanted, maybe.”

She hasn’t really thought about it, so she blurts out the first thing she can think of. “I would _kill_ to go to high school and get my diploma,” Nancy says. Graduation was just always something she looked forward to. Turning seventeen was supposed to the beginning of her future, not the end of it. She was supposed to graduate, take a million pictures with her family, make new friends in college, and have nights of homesickness where she would cry into her pillow in her dorm room.

It only really occurs to her that she still could get that. It wouldn’t feel the same. It wouldn’t be the same. But it would still be it.

Steve chuckles. Elbow digging into the table, his hand holds chin up. “You’re the only person to say that with genuine excitement. Is that … I mean, is that all you guys would want?”

Nancy’s chest tightens. She registers the bell sounding, alerting the arrival of three new customers, but it’s all background noise when the only thing she can focus on is Steve’s thudding heart. “What’re you trying to say?” She asks slowly, despite already knowing the answer.

There’s that tender, intimate look again. “C’mon,” he says softly, scratching the back of his neck. He blushes. “You’re going to make me say it?”

“Yeah, we are,” Jonathan says. He grins, giving Nancy the impression that he also knows what Steve’s getting at. “You can tell us anything. You don’t have to be afraid with us.” He reaches across the table for Steve’s hand, then for Nancy’s.

Steve shakily exhales. He threads his fingers with Jonathan and Nancy and alternates his gaze between them both. “Do you, and I know that right now this is a hypothetical question but it could very possibly not be so, um, what was I—yes, right. If the cure works, no, _when,_ because it will work, because it’s you two, and you’re getting your happy ending goddammit, but um. You know. Do you see me in your future?”

“Steve,” Jonathan says quietly. His mouth opens and closes, before he settles on kissing Steve’s hand.

“You’re not getting rid of us,” Nancy says for them both, “if that’s what you’re asking. We’re in this toge—” The word dies in her throat.

Steve frowns. “Nance, what’s—”

Nancy screams, “Get down!” right as a gunshot goes off.

Jonathan yanks Steve to the floor and they duck underneath the table. Their bodies hit the floor with a thud.

Nancy hasn’t moved a muscle. Even with Jonathan yanking on her ankles, tugging her down. She looks around, trying to search for where the bullet went, before she meets the man’s eyes.

The one who pulled the trigger.

The one staring right at her with a cold, unflinching gaze.

The one whose name she already knows despite never meeting him before, the same way he knows her.

_Brenner._

The three men who just walked in remain standing by the cafe entrance. The man in the middle, Brenner, still has his gun raised, poised at her. “Miss Wheeler?” His voice is cold and as formal as his business suit. He looks like he’s going to a meeting, not like he’s here to kill two vampires.

Is that even what he wants to do?

Nancy follows his line of vision and belatedly notices the bullet lodged in her chest. Oh. So that’s where it went. Dark, red blood oozes. It doesn’t feel like anything. Barely even a pinch. “I could kill you all in a single second,” she says quietly. She plucks the bullet out and drops it onto the floor without looking away. She memorizes their faces, lingering on the almost _excited,_ hungry look in their eyes. “You’re the monsters here. There are innocent people in this establishment.”

Brenner steps forward. He waves behind his shoulder and the two men stay still, their guns lowered by their sides. “We’re not looking to hurt innocent people today. But you and Mr. Byers on the other hand—”

In the blink of an eye, she lunges forward. Her hand tightens around his neck, his gun dropped on the floor. She whirls his body around to face the other two men.

Her eyes weren’t red before, but they are now.

The men scowl. They raise their guns as if it would _do anything_ to her. They would know that, wouldn’t they?

But nothing happens. Brenner just chuckles, calm and relaxed in her grasp. “Don’t like me mentioning him? That’s fine. But before you carry on with your threats, there is another Mr. Byers …”

A gust of air sweeps by her. The two men’s heads are knocked together, their unconscious bodies hitting the floor. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Jonathan’s eyes flash as he draws closer.

The waitress must have called 911. They have minutes, maybe.

But still …

Nancy scowls, tightening her hold on Brenner’s throat. She could kill him. One easy, swift crack of his neck, drain every single ounce of blood from his—

A staccato fills her ears. She shuts her eyes. Steve’s still waiting underneath the table, probably petrified, and maybe the answers to where Will is lie in this old, beady-eyed man.

“You don’t have the upper hand here, understand?” Nancy says, deadly calm. Her eyes aren’t red anymore. Her teeth are just teeth. She’s not even using her superhuman strength. She doesn’t need any of her supernatural abilities, not right now. All she needs is anger. She has more than enough of it. “You assaulted a teenager in a public cafe. We know you’re not with the government. You think they’re going to believe a conspiracy nut? We know who you are. Let’s get to talking.”

He doesn’t struggle. His heartbeat is maddeningly calm. “Just kill me.”

Jonathan clenches his hand into a fist. “We know what you’re trying to do. Look, I know you attacked me in August. This doesn’t have to end badly. Will has done nothing wrong. Just tell us where he is. What did you _do_ to him!?”

“He’s a loose thread. He could’ve helped us and yet,” Brenner spits, his face twisted with disgust. He stares into Jonathan’s red eyes and continues, fascinated, “You two on the other hand. I had been wondering where you went. I knew you were turned, I just couldn’t prove it. Murray hid you two very well—”

“What the _fuck_ did you just say—” Nancy snarls.

“Will’s not as important as you two. You two are remarkable, I could use you, finally, understand how and why—”

He’s lying, he has to be, he has nothing to back his claims up. She’s not going to kill him, not yet, but she can wound, she can hurt, she can—

Distant sirens interrupt her train of thought. “Jonathan,” she gasps, her hands trembling. “We need to leave.”

“We can take them with us,” Jonathan stutters, “I don’t know, what do we _do,_ what do you think? Nancy, I don’t know!”

“You trust me.”

“Always, but what—”

In an instant, she yanks Jonathan’s wrist, sweeps Steve into her arms, and pulls them out the door. They speed straight to Mike’s apartment.

.

.

.

“I figured, okay, if the police found them there,” Nancy blurts out the second they’re safe and secure in Mike’s apartment, “then they would be blamed for the attack. The cafe didn’t have any cameras, and the waitress went into the back before they came in. If we took Brenner and his men, who knows what would’ve happened, who would’ve come after us? He was way too calm, he has to have something, and we cannot do this without Will, we—”

Jonathan’s hands drop to her shoulder. “I always know you’re making the right call,” he assures her, his face pale and exhausted. “I just—I wish you had gotten under the table, Nancy. He _shot_ you. We don’t know what he could’ve done to that bullet. Murray can’t possibly know everything. You don’t have to throw yourself in—”

“We knew Brenner was coming for us at some point anyway, and if I hadn’t—”

“What, what wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t nearly gotten yourself killed!?”

“But I didn’t. We’re fine, Jonathan, what’s the problem!?”

“The problem is that what _if,_ and if you had gotten hurt, if he had something that could’ve hurt us, a stake, if he went for our hearts—we’re so close, I just—this isn’t how it ends—”

Steve, who paces back and forth in front of Mike’s television, raises a trembling hand. “Hey guys? Not that I’m interrupting because I hate your shouting, which I do, but um. Are you okay?” A cut marks his forehead. It has to be from when Jonathan pulled him down to the floor. This has to be one of the worst things he’s ever seen, including than the monsters.

All because of them.

Nancy doesn’t give her guilt the chance to fester. She reminds herself that this has always been a risk they were all aware of. That he isn’t badly hurt. That they kept their promise and kept them safe.

“Steve.” His name causes all the tension in her body to pour out. She collapses onto the sofa, unable to hold her own weight. “I’m sorry. We both are. You shouldn’t have had to go through that. Are _you_ okay?”

Steve stops pacing. He lowers himself onto the sofa, next to Nancy. “You were both attacked.”

Jonathan makes a pained noise. He joins them on the sofa, his foot tapping against the floor. “Did I do that? The bruise on your forehead?”

“It’s nothing,” he dismisses, “especially since you were protecting me. Please don’t feel bad. I’m fine. Are. You. Two. Okay?”

“Yes,” Nancy says, and it’s not entirely a lie. She puts one hand on Steve’s knee and the other on Jonathan’s arm. She needs to feel them, needs them to feel her. “Jonathan, I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t thinking.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Jonathan traces over where the bullet tore into her shirt. The wound has closed off. All that remains is dried blood. “I trust you, okay? You know that. I’m just worried. I don’t want you to get hurt, but you can take care of yourself. It’s just that this is bigger than anything we’ve dealt with, you know? It’s not a swamp monster or a Bigfoot rip-off. These people have been going after Will for years. It sounded like … they wanted to experiment on us?”

She grabs his hand and squeezes as tightly as possible. “We’re in this together. We’re going to figure it out.”

“Do you want me to call Mike?” Steve asks.

Nancy leans her head against the sofa and stares at the ceiling. “Let’s just give ourselves a few minutes, yeah? He’s having a normal night out with friends. He’ll be home soon. Steve, do you want to go home or—”

“I don’t want to leave you guys,” he says, somewhat appalled that she even asked. “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Jonathan replies.

They reach for each other at the same time, their hands continuing to shake in each other’s grasps. She can’t tell whose hand belongs to who, but she feels two hands and that’s all that matters.

She wants to sit here for awhile. She’s too exhausted to come up with a plan. All she wants is to be _here,_ to listen to Steve’s heartbeat, to feel them both, safe and still here, next to her. Mike’s sofa has never been so comfortable.

But when she shuts her eyes, finally grounding herself, another problem arises. She’s never been more irritated by her hearing. “There is someone that isn’t my brother in this apartment.”

She’s not surprised by her delayed reaction considering the past half-hour. She _is_ surprised at the choked sound that escapes Jonathan’s throat. He releases their hands and stumbles to his feet.

“It can’t be.”

He’s out of their field of view in a second, speeding right down the hall.

“Am I missing something?” Steve murmurs next to her, his eyebrows scrunched together.

Nancy should not be surprised that all of this is happening today.  “Holy shit. Just come with me.”

Steve’s hand is warm as she drags him down the hall, where, as she figured, Jonathan stands in front of Mike’s bedroom.

Jonathan’s chin wobbles. “I can’t … I don’t …”

Nancy’s too stunned to move.

Steve dart forward to touch Jonathan’s back. “Hey, what’s wrong, are you okay, do you—holy fuck. Who’s that man in Mike’s bed?”

He’s taller than she expected. He rolls over in Mike’s bed, a pillow clutched in his hands. Nancy is ninety-percent sure he’s wearing one of Mike’s shirts. He doesn’t stir when Jonathan moves forward and carefully situates himself at the edge of the bed. Just makes a noise like he’s drifted even further into sleep.

Steve’s features have gone soft. “He looks like you.”

Nancy approaches the bed slowly. He presses her hand above the one Steve has on Jonathan’s back. “Do you want to wake him?”

“No. He must’ve just got in.”

“I’m calling Mike now,” Nancy announces. Before heading out of Mike’s room to grab the landline, she kisses the top of Jonathan’s head. “Is it better than you thought?”

“Definitely,” he laughs, his voice thick with tears. “Is this how you felt?”

“Well, how do you feel?”

“Like that everything has to work out. I already felt like that before, but I know it for sure.”

Nancy’s too tired to smile properly.  “Exactly.”

She tiptoes to the door. She steals a quick glance of Steve slipping an arm around Jonathan’s waist, joining him at the edge of the bed, before walking to the landline.

Mike answers on the first ring. “Nancy?”

“Hey, so a lot of shit just went down. We were attacked. No one died. We’re alright. Pretty sure it was Brenner. He made vague threats, but it’s not—not our most pressing concern.”

“What happened!? Are you okay? Are you hurt? What the fuck did that bastard—”

“I’m fine, I promise. But you guys need to get to your place immediately. Will’s back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got about seven cavities writing this, but also like, seven headaches editing it lmao. i just needed to make sure i included a lot of things bc like, as you can probably tell, this is the last time where everything's chill before Stuff happens (we've got about 3 chapters left dudes!) that's also why this is so long, because i really wanted them to have nice things.
> 
> next chapter is kind of Chill, but also Not because like .... i mean, you've read the end of this chapter. next few chapters are a bit of a ride, but i hope it's worth it. i truly have no idea what i'm doing (chapter 8 is almost done tho!), but you know what? neither do these characters, and that's okay. 
> 
> i hope you liked this chapter!! i have many feelings, but this is my strongest thought: WILL, finally! i'd love to know what you think. see you next friday! hope y'all are doing well.


	7. Chapter 7

“How is he _still_ sleeping?”

For the first time since he sat down on the edge of the bed, Mike moves. He raises his head to look at Max. “He’s a heavy sleeper. Could sleep through anything. Probably even through these three—ugh. I can’t say it.”

Nancy resists the urge to kick Mike. “Even when Will’s returned, you still find a way to be a dick.” She stands, arms crossed, with the rest of the kids, a few feet away from Mike’s bed.

Everyone watches Will, who snores gently into Mike’s pillow, drool seeped into his beard.  

“Wait till Will wakes up,” Lucas says. He sits next to Max in the corner of the room. He’s wearing a Thor shirt—they had _another_ Marvel marathon, despite finishing the series recently with Jonathan and Nancy—and absentmindedly picking at a stain on the hammer. “Then Mike’s heart eyes will take over. He won’t bother you for long. Will won’t let him, anyway.”

“What d’ya think happened?” Max gnaws on her fingernail. Her shirt’s of Black Widow. It’s torn-up and slightly oversized. “It’s been awhile. He looks fine. I don’t know if Nancy or Jonathan can tell—”

“He’s okay,” Jonathan interrupts. He hasn’t gotten up from his spot on the edge of the bed. Not even when Mike joined him. They’ve sat there for hours while everyone cycles in and out. “Not even a cut. He’s breathing. It’s all I can hear.”

“You’re listening?” Mike asks. He’s the dick who wore a Batman shirt to a Marvel marathon. It’s a shirt Nancy got him for Christmas. He’s worn it so often in the past few months that the blue’s fading out.

“Nancy listens to yours all the time,” Jonathan says. His eyes never leave Will.

Mike raises an eyebrow at Nancy. He touches the spot below his heart, actually looking touched.

“It’s soothing,” Nancy explains. No point in pretending otherwise; Mike needs to hear things like this and Nancy needs to say things like it too. “I’m gonna make tea. You guys want?”

Jonathan and Jane decline. Lucas, Max, and Mike accept her offer.

She casts another glance at Will’s snoring form. She hasn’t thought about the earlier attack. She’s kind of forgotten and honestly, this is much more important.

They’ve known for months now that Will was alive, and, in general terms, okay. But him in person, Jonathan and Mike’s eyes shining with love—a different type for both, but still love nonetheless—and all of Mike’s friends buzzing with anticipation as they come up with everything they want to tell him and catch him up to speed on, brings her a peace she’s never known before.

They can deal with everything tomorrow.

They can deal with it all now that he’s back.

There’s a warmth in her chest. It’s the kind of fondness that exists not just because he’s Mike’s _something_ and Jonathan’s brother. Sure, she knows him arguably well through stories. She knows his favourite type of pizza: pepperoni with mushrooms. She knows that he can sketch for hours if you give him a pen and paper. She knows that when he laughs really hard, his eyes crinkle so much that they nearly close.

But she also knows his resilience. His strength. An implicit understanding exists between them from loving Jonathan and Mike, from having to leave home, from having to do and see unspeakable things.

She’s been looking for him all these years too.

And finally, he’s home.

She tiptoes out of the room and returns to the kitchen. Dustin and Steve sit across from each other at Mike’s dining table. Dustin shows Steve something on his phone.

“Hey,” Nancy greets. She steps behind Steve and winds her fingers through his hair, raising her head to smile at Dustin.

Dustin smiles back. “I’m showing Steve some pictures of the four of us before vampires and monsters and fucking former CIA agents ruined our lives. Ooh, here’s one of us during Halloween.”

“Your hair,” Steve says, in awe. “It’s awesome.” He hums when Nancy’s fingers slide down to his shoulder, covering her hand with his.

“Was awesome. Man, I’m balding. My daughter gives me so much crap for it.”

“You have a _daughter?_ ” Nancy says. “Why do I know nothing about this? Why are you so private?” Dustin and Lucas as fathers, with a daughter  probably around Nancy’s age, is so bizarre.

She should be used to it. She kind of is, but shit like this throws her off and probably always will.

She’ll never forget the time Dustin was over and she had to “babysit” him and Mike while her parents were out. She remained upstairs, doing homework. Their screaming caused her to dash down her stairs, only to find Mike yelling at Dustin to _use the plunger properly, goddammit!_

She asked which one caused the toilet to overflow. Both boys pointed at each other. She still doesn’t know who did it, and kind of wonders if she can still find out.

And now Dustin’s a _father._

“Yeah, she’s in university. Vancouver. It’s a fucking trip not seeing her all the time, but she’s living with Lucas’ first cousin and their daughter. They’re tight. I miss her, but she isn’t alone.”

Nancy smiles at the picture Dustin shows her. It’s of a short, dark-skinned girl in a cap and gown, holding a high school diploma. Her grin is as blinding and bright as sunshine. “What’s her name?”

“Willow. Yeah. That made Will tear up.”

Nancy’s heart swells. She hasn’t cried yet, but she knows in a few hours, probably after Will’s woken up, she’ll randomly start tearing up. “I’m sure she did her namesake proud. I’d love to meet her some day. I just know she’s incredible.”

“I’ve been trying to think of a pun with her name for the past fifteen minutes, but my brain’s too fried,” Steve says.

Nancy grabs Steve’s phone from the table to check the time. “Holy shit, it’s midnight! Your last day of school is tomorrow, you’ve gotta go. C’mon, I’ll drop you off. Lemme—”

“Whoa, Nancy, I’ve got it,” Dustin says. He fishes his keys out of the pocket in his Iron Man shirt. “You stay. You were attacked a few hours ago too, remember?” His face softens with concern.

It doesn’t feel like it, but he’s right.  “Thank you, Dustin,” Nancy sighs.

The moment Steve stands from his chair, Nancy wraps her arms around his waist and nestles her head onto his shoulder. “I’ll call you. It’s okay if you’re not okay, but I promise that you’re safe.”

“I know.” Steve rests his chin on her head. He brings his arms around her neck, wrapping her up in warmth. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it, okay? And don’t be sorry. You kept me safe. I’m not afraid. You’re a total badass. Jonathan too.”

“You’re not wrong.” She pulls back to kiss his cheek. Looking up at him, she runs her fingers through his hair. He makes a pleased noise from the back of his throat. Her chest pangs. As stupid as it sounds, she misses him already. “We’ve got the ‘love interest saves the heroine from _danger_ ’ part checked off. It never happens more than once, right?”

“Not in our story.”

“Uh, what the _fuck_ are you guys talking about?”

Steve and Nancy share a wry chuckle. “I’ll see you soon,” she says, rubbing his back. “I know Jonathan would want you to meet Will. I don’t know what the next few days, weeks, maybe months will look like, but I have a good feeling. The hardest part is over. Jonathan’s finally got his brother back, I have my family, and we have you.”

“I know you don’t want to talk about your happy ending and all, _but_ your happy … your happy not-ending is coming up.”

“Slick,” Dustin says under his breath. “Let’s tell everyone that we’re going.”

They return to Mike’s room. Nothing has changed in the few minutes Nancy was gone; Will’s still asleep and the kids are talking in hushed voices.

Steve slides his arms around Jonathan’s waist from behind. “I gotta leave. I want to stay, but—”

“But it’s late. You have school.” Jonathan leans back into Steve’s touch, turning his head to press his cheek against Steve’s. “You really didn’t have—”

“Shh, it’s fine. I want to be here. I’m so happy for you,” Steve murmurs against Jonathan’s ear. “If you need time, with everything going on, that’s cool. Let me know how it goes if you can, yeah? I want to hear everything.”

Jonathan turns his head to kiss Steve very gently. “Of course. I’m sorry about today. Everything’s going to work out. We’re going to make sure. And we’re all going to be okay.”

“I know.” Steve cups Jonathan’s jaw. The tender look reserved for Jonathan and Nancy flickers into his eyes as he kisses the tip of Jonathan’s nose. He glances at the kids—the adults to him. His cheeks redden. “I’ll, uh.”

Jonathan laughs quietly and ducks forward for another quick kiss. “I’ll miss you too,” he murmurs, stroking the back of Steve’s head.

Nancy digs her nails into her palms to keep from joining them. She wants them to have this for themselves, in case anything—

 _This is not how it ends,_ she reminds herself. _This is not a goodbye._ But she continues bouncing on her feet so she can remain just watching them. She decides this is better, anyway. They have this moment, and she has this image of her boys, this rare, light feeling in her chest that she’ll hold onto, long after it passes.

Nancy walks Steve and Dustin back to the front door. She called Holly earlier and asked if she could keep a deputy by Steve’s school, just in case. He’ll be fine.

But she still doesn’t want him to leave.

She isn’t _that_ worried about something bad happening again. It’s just that she understands that the normalcy and routine they built together could, and probably will, shatter soon. She wants every second she has.

“Steve?”

He turns around. He’s one footstep outside the apartment. “Yeah?”

Nancy crosses the space between them. She flings her arms around his neck. He crashes into her with a half-laugh and a slight _oof_ that she interrupts with a kiss. She touches his chest to _feel_ his heartbeat accelerate and calm itself down, all because of her touch. “Have a good day at school tomorrow.”

Steve drops his forehead against hers. His hands rest on the small of her back after pulling her as close as possible. “Uh—yeah, of course,” he says, dazed. “You too. I’ll miss you.”

“Me too.” Nancy catches Dustin’s faint smile as he leans against the wall in the hallway. “Thanks again. Have a safe ride. I promise to call if Will wakes up.”

She watches them walk down the hall. The entire way, Steve walks backwards to beam at her. Dustin yanks Steve’s arm a few times so that Steve won’t bump into the wall. He half-heartedly scolds Steve the first time and gives up the other two times.

Nancy and Steve shout _bye!_ several times. They wave until he and Dustin step into the elevator.

Once she’s closed the door and has stepped back instead, she hears Dustin say, more fondly than anything, “I’m disgusted. You said bye like a thousand times in the _thirty seconds_ it took to walk to the front door to the elevator.”

Someone presses a button. The elevator creaks. She strains to hear what Steve says next before they’re out of hearing range. “Haven’t you ever been in love before, man?”

The elevator creaks again, descending to the ground floor. Nancy misses the rest of what he says, but she has a feeling she caught the gist of it.

Warm and fuzzy all over, Nancy returns to the kitchen with a stupid smile. She finds Max rummaging through the pantry. Max turns around and leans against the counter, puffing out a breath of relief. “Hey. Crazy day, huh?”

“Understatement. Sorry about the tea, I was—”

She waves a hand before running it through her red, unkempt hair. “Don’t worry about it. You guys are sweet.”

“Me and Jonathan or me and Steve? _Or_ Jonathan and Steve?”

“Yeah,” Max says, grinning. She closes the pantry and hoists herself onto the counter. “It’s probably not my place to say this, but you’re being careful, right? Safe, with all things considered?”

Nancy sits next to her. “We stopped being careful the moment we agreed to the relationship. Today was finally when things blew over. I don’t know how to keep him safe.” _I don’t know how to keep anyone safe, either._

“We have no idea what’s coming. _We_ have been dealing with this for awhile. You and Jonathan too. Steve on the other hand … this’ll work out, y’know? I don’t want you to think otherwise. But Steve will go to bat for you two—”

Nancy claps a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh.

Max shakes her head and smiles when she realizes her unintentional pun. “—and you’ve gotta decide if you’re okay with that. If you think he can handle it. He’s so gone for you two.”

“Yeah,” Nancy agrees. “It goes both ways.”

“Mike doesn’t actually hate him, you know. He likes that you have two people who love you. He just likes being a dickhead.” It prompts to Nancy to laugh both out of relief, despite figuring as much, and also because Max is entirely correct. “He was so annoying about El and me, because he didn’t understand how someone as ‘annoying as me’ could land her. Then this bitch proceeds to make the most beautiful toast at our wedding. Full on sobbing by the end, saying how happy he is for me and how much he loves me. He’s okay now. He’s getting there. Smiling more, sleeping more. He’s still insufferable, but that’s the Mike we love.”

She puts in a mental note to ask for pictures and videos from the wedding when everything isn’t such a mess. “Definitely. Thank you for telling me that. I—I knew leaving him would hurt, of course, but I wanted to protect him. In my mind, it meant that he wouldn’t see a fraction of the horrors that I did. That I was saving him the trouble, the pain. I didn’t _want_ to hurt him. But I think leaving made everything even worse for him, because I ended up hurting him anyway.”

Nancy cannot believe she’s unloaded all of this onto Max. Before she can apologize, Max responds.

“Hey, he gets it. So do we. But now you know. I think getting past the pain is the only way we get past anything. It stung. It hurt. But now he’s got his older sister and you have your younger brother. You don’t regret coming back, right? Or regret having to tell Holly and Mike everything?”

In moments like these, Nancy forgets that, in a way, the kids are much older than her.

“No,” she says without thinking, without needing to. “Of course not.”

Max smiles and says, like she can see right through Nancy, “Your pain isn’t a burden.”

It’s not like Nancy doesn’t agree with Max. She’s always known that logically, it was true; she still had a hard time believing it, though.

But Max saying that genuinely and her steady heartbeat that can only mean she’s telling the truth, make it hard to believe otherwise. “I’m not crying right now,” Nancy says unconvincingly.

“You are. Just a bit.”

“Am not.”

“What’s in your eye?”

“My eye.” Nancy laugh wetly. She swings her legs back and forth to stop from crying any more, but doesn’t bother wiping her eyes. “You’re wise.”

“And you’re awesome. I’ve always thought you were cool from all of Mike’s stories. Meeting you is kinda like meeting an idol. God, did I just say that—”

“Yes, and I really appreciate it. Thank you.” Nancy carefully lowers her hand onto Max’s. “Mike’s told me a little bit about your family, so I’m glad you have this. You deserve it. I’m glad I know you.”

“Fuck. Now I’m crying. Oh, how the tables have turned.”

They laugh and kind of cry together until Nancy remembers the tea. A few minutes later, they return to Mike’s room with several mugs.

“We got sidetracked.” Nancy thrusts one mug into Mike’s hands and a second one into Jonathan’s. Jonathan raises his eyebrows, but accepts it anyway. As if she wouldn’t have noticed that he hasn’t drank or eaten anything in hours.

“’S all good.” Mike yawns. His hands tremble and nearly cause the tea to spill over his lap. But when Nancy pats his arm, his grasp on the mug steadies.

Jane has since fallen asleep, her head lolled on Lucas’ shoulder. Within the hour, everyone slowly drifts off. Max falls asleep with her head on Lucas’ other shoulder. Lucas sleeps in between Max and Jane. Five minutes after Dustin returns, he sprawls across the kids’ laps and instantly falls asleep. Mike crashes with his body against the wall, curled up in the corner of the bed.

Nancy and Jonathan watch over them. She lays in his lap and ignores her eyelids getting heavy as her eyes struggling to remain open. “Sleep. It’s been a long day.”

“I’m okay,” Jonathan says. With two hands, he strokes her hair and Will’s forehead at the same time. “I want to be here when he wakes up. I can take you back to our room?”

“No, this is good. This is great.” For emphasis, she rolls over so he can see her lazy smile, before nestling her head his thigh. “I wanna be here too.”

He chuckles. The sound is scratchy and warm. It’s what Nancy would pick if someone asked her what home sounded like. “Okay, sleepyhead.”

“I’m so happy for you,” she says, half-aware she’s not going to make much sense in her exhausted state. But Jonathan’s always been good at hearing her, at knowing where her head and heart were without needing her to tell him. He’ll still ask, though. Always will.

Nancy’s so overcome with adoration that she has to pause to collect her thoughts. “You deserve this. You both do. Your heart just _knew,_ right?”

“I did smell him and hear his breathing, but yeah. I guess so. I just hope he’s okay.”

“We’ll figure it out,” she says firmly. “He’s got you now. We can stop all of this, together. We basically did it before. We’re going to do it again.”

In the darkness, his half-smile glows. “We’re getting our lives back.” His eyes glisten with moisture.

She frowns for a millisecond, until she realizes that they’re happy tears.

Too exhausted to sit up and wrap her arms around him, she takes the hand he has in her hair and squeezes. She likes this look on Jonathan: expression soft but determined, mouth curved, eyes bright, hair tousled and all over the place.

She wonders how it looks on her face. How that type of hope, infectious and real, would take shape for her. “We’ve got a lot ahead of us. You ready?”

“I’ve been ready for years. No matter what, we’ve got each other. We have everyone. We’re going to keep everyone safe.”

“Maybe our happy ending is in sight.” Nancy expected that saying it aloud would feel like a curse, but it doesn’t. It’s more like a promise. The same way they promised each other all those years ago to find Barb and Will. It occurs to her now that their original promise has finally been kept. “But if— _when_ this works out, it won’t be an ending. It’ll be a beginning.”

Maybe he replies. Maybe he doesn’t. Sleep finally wears her down. The last thing she remembers is Jonathan’s hand in hers and the constant thrum of Will’s breathing.

.

.

.

A few hours later, Nancy slowly wakes up. Early sunlight streams in through the windows, casting a light over the bed. With her eyes shut, she counts the kids’ heartbeats, all of them asleep, and shifts in Jonathan’s lap.

Everyone’s here, she thinks contently, until she registers a sixth heartbeat.

And then she remembers.

She instantly stretches an arm out and strikes someone in the face. “Sorry, Jonathan, I just—is he awake—”

A laugh that sounds familiar but intrinsically _different_ cuts her off. “Hi, Nancy. It’s nice to see you again, after all these years.”

This immediately wakes her up. She sits upright and scrambles off of Jonathan’s lap, lightly whacking his arm. “I can’t believe you didn’t wake me up!”

“You were sleeping!” Jonathan exclaims. The exhaustion in his face is replaced with brightness, his grin splitting his face.

She loves his look of pure, unadulterated joy. It’s the best kind of disbelief from having a moment you’ve dreamt about a million times, a fantasy close enough to reality, unfold right in front of you. It’s what she felt when she saw Holly and Mike for the first time again.

He’s not missing what makes him an older brother anymore.

She turns her head and finally looks at Will. He sits in front of them, back against the bed’s headboard, Mike’s blanket half-strewn over him. The sight renders her speechless. This is what Jonathan would look like if he got to age. Lines of laughter and exhaustion etched underneath his eyes. Unruly beard. Eyes softened instead of hardened by years of pain.

As Will smiles, a faint scar stretches across his cheek.

A lump forms in Nancy’s throat.

Jonathan gently nudges her. “I told him you never lost hope. That you knew he was out there.”

“I didn’t _know_ , really,” Nancy admits, somehow flustered. “I just thought that if Barb, the world couldn’t take you too. I refused to believe it. Can I—can I hug you? Is that weird?”

Will chuckles. There’s something inherently comforting about his presence. “There are weirder things. I mean, you’re Mike’s older sister, but you look like half the age that I look like, since this isn’t even how old I’m _supposed_ to be. A couple years off, but still. Oh! And there’s also the fact that you two are together.”

“What about you and Mike?” Nancy counters, unable to contain her girn.

“What about us?”

“He’s been awake since we called him to tell him you were here,” Jonathan says. “He only fell asleep five minutes before you woke up.”

“Thirty-six years and this is what you’re asking me?”

Jonathan shrugs. “Gotta make up for lost time. And I don’t know if you’re up to talk about everything else.”

A shadow passes over Will’s face. “What did they tell you?”

“What you told them,” he replies. “Which isn’t much, to be honest. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But you should know that we were kind of attacked.”

“ _What?_ _When? A_ re you okay? How are you just mentioning this?”

“It was nothing. I was more concerned about _you,_ us getting attacked once doesn’t compare to—”

“Today,” Nancy interrupts. They need to talk about this before anything else. “Or yesterday? Yes, yesterday. There were three men. We’re pretty sure Brenner was there. They knew who we were. He mentioned you. It felt like a threat.”

“He also said something weird. That you’re not as important as us. That he could _use_ us, finally understand something, but he didn’t finish his sentence.”

Will nods, deep in thought. “Okay, this isn’t as bad as it could be. We can figure this out. We’re both here, we’re together, and we’re going to end this.” He looks at Nancy and adds, “All of us.”

Nancy musters up a weak smile. “We can wait ’till everyone’s up and showered and fed. Have you guys eaten? It seems like you’ve stayed in bed.”

“We have,” Will says. “I didn’t want to wake anyone up. They waited? All night for me?”

“Buddy,” Jonathan says warmly. He claps a hand over Will’s shoulder. “Of course they did.”

“Do you want to wake them up?” Nancy asks.

Will shakes his head. “Let ’em sleep. Who knows what’ll come next? We’re safe now, but …” His eyes lower to Mike. Mike’s sound asleep, wedged in between Jonathan and the wall. He suddenly shifts, and Will holds his breath, only for Mike to rest his head on Jonathan’s thigh and continue snoring.

“Let’s enjoy this.” Will leans against the headboard. He looks peaceful. Nancy kind of thinks it’s a miracle.

Nancy and Jonathan smile at each other. There’s still a mess to be dealt with, but for now, they have this.

.

.

.

Nancy and Jonathan are telling Will the story about the werewolf in Maine when Mike rolls over.

“Is Will awake yet?” He grumbles.

Nancy opens her mouth to answer, until she catches Will lighting up at the sound of Mike’s voice. She foots Will’s thigh and gestures to Mike.

Will’s face splits into a grin. “Yup.”

Jonathan yelps, leaning against Nancy as Mike lunges forward and throws himself into Will. “Where the fuck have you been?” He laughs and buries his head in Will’s neck. “I knew you were coming, I _knew_ it, but it’s been forever, are you okay?”

Will releases a breathless, choked out sound like he can’t quite believe that Mike is here. He pulls Mike closer and holds him tightly. “I’m okay. I’ll tell you all about it when everyone’s up, okay? But I’m great. How are _you?_ ”

“Good.” With his index finger, Mike gently traces Will’s scar. His features soften when Will leans into his touch. “Very good.”

“You said you’d cut your hair.”

“You like the long hair.”

“I like being able to see your face, which I can’t through all this hair.”

Nancy looks at Jonathan; their grins match. “We can leave.”

“Don’t,” Mike says apologetically. He pulls away, halfway in Will’s lap, and drapes an arm around Will’s shoulder. “You guys talked?”

Jonathan nods eagerly. “Yeah, we did. I told him what happened, about mom, Murray, our return. Catching up.”

“I told him how it isn’t safe for me to return,” Will says. “How I couldn’t tell mom because it would put her in danger.”

“I mean, _I_ told mom and she was fine, I still don’t get why you didn’t—oh, did I just, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Completely different cases, bud, I’m—”

Will shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Both brothers smile tiredly, but lovingly at one another.

Mike waits a beat to say, “And none of you have gotten up? I don’t need your super-senses to know that your breaths smell terrible.”

Will wrinkles his nose. “Even mine?”

“No, yours is fine,” Mike says.

Jonathan and Nancy share a look. “We’re not judging you, buddy,” Jonathan says, “but your morning breath is really strong. It was the first thing I noticed when you woke up.”

“It’s not that strong,” Nancy adds. “Honestly, I’m only now noticing.”

“Nancy’s lying. It was also the first thing she noticed.”

Nancy gawks and lightly elbows Jonathan.“I’m trying to be polite! He’s had a rough—a rough life, okay!”

Will doesn’t look offended. His hand slips down to Mike’s knee as he stifles a yawn. “Can I use your toothbrush?”

Mike nods. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” Will pushes a stray curl away from Mike’s forehead. “That was bothering me.”

“ _You’re_ bothering me.”

“Liar.”

“Yeah.”

Nancy and Jonathan watch their brothers with mild levels of amusement. Nancy can’t stop smiling, nor can anyone else.

Will stretches his arms out in front of him. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He brushes his hand against Mike’s. He smiles at him, then at Jonathan and Nancy. “This is so weird.”

“What?” Despite Jonathan’s confusion, the corners of his mouth raise into a smile.

“Looking at you. Being older than you when you haven’t aged a single day. It’s a good weird though,” Will clarifies. “Never thought I’d get to do it again.” He leans in and hugs Jonathan.

Jonathan makes a stunned noise before fiercely hugging him back. He rests his cheek against the top of Will’s head. He looks like he’s home. “Me too.”

Will then tiptoes out of the room. He steals a glance at the rest of his friends as they sleep in the corner, curled up together. He smiles and quietly closes the door behind him.

Mike only meets Nancy’s eyes when he’s finished watching Will go. “What?”

“Nothing,” she says innocently. “I like this look on you. Happiness really brings out your eyes.”

Mike scoffs. “I’m _happy._ I’ve got a great mom, one sister who didn’t get herself killed—”

“Tell me when I said you could joke about this?”

His eyes widen until he notices her smirk. “Another sister who did,” he continues. “And a couple of awesome friends. And Jonathan!”

“Oh. Thanks!”

“I’m a very happy person,” Mike finishes.

“Yeah, you radiate joy,” Nancy says dryly. “Fine. You’re a happy person who missed someone, but now that he’s back, you’re all rainbows and sunshine.”

Mike makes a face. “I am?”

“She’s exaggerating. You’re a grey sky turned blue?” Jonathan offers.

“I thought my hyperbole was fine. All I’m saying is that I like seeing you happy. I’m not teasing. I’m just doing this new thing we’ve been trying out: being honest.”

Mike’s shoulders sag. “Oh. I really appreciate—”

“Can you guys shut up?” Max scowls, her voice scratchy. She raises her head from Lucas’ shoulder and hisses as she rolls her neck. “Actually, Mike, can you just shut up?”

“Max, why are you so _loud?_ ” Lucas whines. He blinks hard, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes.

“Lucas! I’m sleeping. Or I was.” Jane’s eyes slowly open.

Dustin, sprawled all over their laps, groans. “I’m sleeping on you guys, so can you not?”

“How’d they all wake up at the same time?” Nancy asks, slightly amazed. She inches further down the bed in case any of them want to sit.

Jonathan hugs his knees to his chest. “Hey guys? Will’s awake. He’s just brushing his teeth.”

“Is he okay?” Jane asks. She lifts Dustin’s legs off of her lap and jumps to her feet, alert and fully awake.

“He’s great.”

“Good, we were so—shh, everyone, quiet, he’s coming!” Jane exclaims.

“ _You were talking,_ ” Max says under her breath. She grins sleepily at the semi-annoyed, mostly-fond look Jane sends her and climbs to her feet.

Dustin stands. He offers a hand to Lucas. “We seriously fell asleep on the floor?”

Lucas accepts Dustin hand and is pulled to his feet. “For friendship, which, El you said Will was coming, and yet—”

“I’ve been standing here for twenty seconds. None of you have noticed.”

Nancy raises her hand. “I noticed.”

“Thank you, Nancy.” Will’s grin broadens as he shuts the door behind him. “Hey guys, I missed—”

Will doesn’t get to finish the rest of his sentence. Dustin, Jane, Lucas, and Max run towards him and crush him into a group hug, yelling and cheering over each other. Nancy wouldn’t be surprised if Mike’s neighbours filed a noise complaint.

Mike, smiling to himself, crawls out of his bed and joins them.

“Dude, we missed you!”

“We were so worried!”

“Mike was so mopey without you.”

“I wasn’t, Max, holy shit—”

“We were mopey too, of course, but we weren’t annoying like him.”

“You’re _always_ annoying.”

“That’s not what you said at my wedding, bitch.”

“Ignore them,” Jane says. She ruffles Will’s hair. “You’ve been okay? No attacks? No run ins with _him_?”

“No, I—”

“Then what took so long!?”

“Lucas, I was getting there! Kali and I were busy with something, following a lead that I can’t talk about yet, but Kali’s good—”

“If she’s so good,” Dustin says, “can we finally meet her?”

“You’ll meet her soon! What’s the rush?”

Everyone groans.

“For starters,” Mike says, “you’re in and out of here. You either don’t have a phone or you won’t give us your number. I can’t tell which is worse.”

Jonathan’s eyes crinkle with a smile. He stretches his legs out. “Lots of things have changed, but not this. I like that they’ll always be our little brothers and our little brothers’ friends.”

The kids beam at Will and Will beams back. Everyone laughs and talks over each other like no time has passed.

Nancy, dazed but mostly grateful, says, “Me too.”

.

.

.

“How was your last day before break?”

“How was—who _cares_ about school when Will’s back! Is he up? How is he? Is he taller than Jonathan? Nance, you’re killing me.”

“Forgive me for caring about your day,” Nancy teases. She clutches Mike’s phone tighter to her ear.

“I’m sorry. Thanks for asking.” Steve pauses. “Is there a party next door?”

Nancy stands by the window in her room. Everyone else is in the kitchen. She doesn’t need super-hearing to hear their excited shouting. “Nope. That’s all of Mike’s friends. Everyone’s happy because Will’s back. He’s good. We haven’t gotten around to talking about what to do now, with Brenner and everything. Brenner doesn’t know about Mike’s apartment, so we’re okay for now. We have been for sometime. We’re chilling. Momentarily, of course. But otherwise, it’s good. Practically perfect.”

“That’s fucking amazing!” Steve must be beaming what with the genuine joy dripping in his voice. “You’re safe, right?”

“Yes.” It’s a half-truth. They’re _probably_ safe. No one came after Jonathan after the attempted attack. It dawns on her that it was probably an attempted kidnapping, too.

A sudden wave of nausea brings her to a halt.

Mike’s apartment is and always has been safe. If Brenner knew where they were staying, he would’ve already came for them. They aren’t in danger. It’s reassuring; while it doesn’t fully quell her fear, it does get her to stop shaking. “You’re safe too. Holly kept a deputy by your school.”

“That explains. Everyone was paranoid they were gonna check our lockers for drugs.”

Nancy swallows a laugh. Just like that, the nausea passes. “Were you worried?”

“Worried about you and Johnny Boy? Obviously. Worried about them finding weed in my lockers? Obviously not. I’m a good person. I wouldn’t keep weed _at school._ What kinda idiot does that?”

“Definitely not you. We taught you better than that, right?”

“For sure. You also taught me how to kill monsters, even when they’re adorable—”

“That thing would’ve killed you, but okay.”

“And how to do that thing with my tongue that makes Jonathan tear up.”

“You’re welcome. Good trick, right?”

“The best.” Steve draws out a heavy exhale. “I miss you guys. I know that’s lame. I saw you yesterday—”

“Shut up,” Nancy says warmly. Her grip on the phone loosens. “We miss you too. You busy right now?”

“No. Not for you two, ever,” Steve says without skipping a beat.

Nancy touches the spot above her heart. It doesn’t beat, hasn’t done so since 1983, but it has to be fluttering, has to be flipping, has to be swelling up to twice its size. She knows it. “Do you wanna come over? Meet Will.” She falls backwards onto her bed and sinks into the mattress.

“But would Jonathan be—”

“Okay with one of his favourite people meeting another one of his favourite people?”

“Are you directly quoting him? I need to know if you are.”

She laughs, clutching a pillow close to her chest.  “I’ll text you if it’s okay or not. But I’m sure it will be.”

“That sounds great.” Steve pauses. “Look, if it doesn’t work, I wanna say that I … I know things are gonna get rough and that you’re going to want to keep me out of it. But I wanna help in any way that I can. You know I’d do anything for you. I’ve proven that I can handle myself, right? I can fight and I will for you both. If it’s my decision, you can’t stop me.”

Her heart plummets. She hates that he’s thought this far-ahead, that he’s even considered this, that they’ve _put_ him in a place to. “We don’t have to think so far ahead just yet. I’ll fight you on this later, but for now, thank you. God, you’re better than you even know.” She stares at the ceiling and bites her lower lip. She blurts out the thought before she can change her mind. “None of this would’ve happened if we hadn’t stayed in Hawkins.”

“Well, you stayed ’cuz of Johnny Boy’s mom, right?”

“Yeah, but we stayed longer because of someone else. We just _had_ to know you, and then we had to see what could happen, and then being here, with my mom, Joyce, Holly, _you_ —it was all too good to abandon. But it started with hearing your scream on our way into Hawkins. It started with you.”

A thud sounds from the other line.

“Steve!? Are you—”

Steve’s muffled laughter fills her ears. “Sorry. I got excited and dropped my phone. I can’t stop smiling. Can you ask if I can come? I really want to see you both.”

“Yes, of course. We want to see you too. Text you in a second.” She ends the call and makes her way towards the living room.

She only stepped away for a few minutes to talk to Steve. In that time, everyone migrated to the living room. The sounds of loud laughter and old stories bounce down the hall. Nancy catches a glimpse of the kitchen in her peripheral vision, namely the empty pizza boxes and the stack of dirty plates. Lucas and Max decided to raid Mike’s pantry to make an “actual meal”. The pasta looked _technically_ edible, but the odour made Nancy and Jonathan gag. They were the only ones who picked up on it. They politely declined and stuck to pizza.

Nancy frowns. She counts four heartbeats. “Where’s Jane and Dustin?” She asks as she steps into the room.

“I already knew you could do that, but it’ll always freak me out,” Lucas says, his legs sprawled across Mike’s lap on the sofa. “They had to leave. We _are_ adults. With jobs. And responsibilities.”

“It’s easy to forget that,” Jonathan says playfully. He sits next to Will on the opposite sofa, their feet pressed together. “You chugged a carton of milk three hours ago only to spit it out since it was past the expiry date.”

Nancy chuckles, standing at the end of the sofa Mike’s sitting on. She stares at him pointedly until he inches over. “You have to know that we can’t see you as adults. My mind registers that, but my heart sees a bunch of small, noisy children.”

“I was never loud,” Will protests. He raises his hands defensively. The sleeve of his shirt flaps, the material extending past his hands.

It now occurs to Nancy that the clothes he changed into after his shower an hour ago belong to Mike.

“You were small. Very small.” Jonathan nudges Will. His eyes shine. “You were the tiniest baby. I was terrified of holding you at first, but then you grabbed my pinky. It was impossible to let go.”

Mike stares at her this time. She obliges with a story. Not without elbowing him first.

“The first time I held you, you cried your head off. Dad picked you up and you only cried harder. Mom somehow slept through all of this. I demanded he give you back to me. You stopped crying the second you were in my arms again. I think you realized that I was infinitely times better than dad and changed your mind about me.”

Mike snorts. A curl falls onto his forehead. This has to be the most well-rested she’s seen him all year. “I’m surprised you remember that.”

Max and Lucas look wistfully at each other. Nancy’s about to proclaim that they also have her and Jonathan when Jonathan blurts out, “Holy shit, Steve! How is he? Is he okay? What’d he say?”

Will’s eyebrows furrow. “Who’s Steve?”

“You haven’t told Will yet!?” Lucas pulls his legs out of Mike’s lap to face Jonathan, making a bewildered face at him.

Mike clenches his jaw and clasps his hands together. Nancy already wants to strangle him. “So I nearly saw you—”

Nancy grits her teeth and knees Mike’s thigh. She loses years off her lifespan everytime Mike brings up the night they reunited under _that_ context. Yes, she’s aware that doesn’t make sense with all (vampire) things considered, but she’s too irritated to care. “You didn’t see anything! Even then, you do know that you could have _prevented_ that had you been a normal brother and _called me_ instead of breaking into Steve’s house!”

Max laughs awkwardly. She exchanges a nervous glance with Lucas. “So neither of you are over that. Good to know.”

“This … is not enough information for me to figure it out on my own,” Will says slowly. He turns to look at Jonathan. “I thought we caught up on everything already.”

If Nancy wasn’t so annoyed with Mike, she would appreciate Jonathan’s blush. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. In my weak defence, there is a lot you haven’t told me. Not that there’s a rush or that you have to! Just saying.”

“That also extends to us,” Lucas says. “Again, you don’t _have_ to tell us anything, but there is a lot we don’t know. I know you think it’ll put us in danger, but we can handle it. We want to help.” He gestures to Mike, a silent plea for backup.

Mike casts a soft look at Will. “We handled the worst possible thing that could ever happen to us: the three of you going missing. We can take whatever comes next. It sure as hell won’t be as bad as that and we got through that and came out fine.”

“Help us help you,” Max adds. “Start anywhere. With the years in captivity. The cure. Brenner’s fucking deal. _If you want._ ”

Will’s heart beats frantically. His mouth snaps shut like he’s trying hard to keep his chin from trembling.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jonathan leans forward to stroke Will’s back in calm, soothing motions. “There’s no rush. No rush at all. Take your time.”

“I'm so sorry you had to go through that yesterday,” Will says, his voice muffled in Jonathan’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I thought you would be safe. I thought ... ”

“It's not your fault. It’s all on Brenner.” Despite Mike’s reassuring tone, his face sours with Brenner’s name. “Going to a public place, causing all that damage to an innocent business only to end up not _physically_ attacking any of you. I don’t get it.”

“Well, actually.” Jonathan looks pained as his gaze slips to where the bullet lodged into Nancy’s chest.

“They did shoot me,” Nancy finishes numbly. It didn’t hurt. It obviously didn’t leave a mark. Within seconds, it healed. It was just the shock of it. She’s never been attacked like that. By monsters and supernatural creatures, sure, but never from a _human._ Especially not from someone who didn’t want her dead. It was clear that no matter what, Brenner wouldn’t have killed them, but that doesn’t mean she likes the implications of that either. He wanted them alive because he wanted _them._

The horror behind that thought doesn’t have time to settle because Mike lets out a terrified noise. “ _Nancy._ ” His jaw drops. His hand trembles as he reaches out to touch her arm.

“I’m fine.” Nancy presses her hand on top of his. “A bullet can’t hurt me.”

Mike yanks his hand away, snapping, “But Brenner can! I mean—look at what he’s done to Will! He’s not even a vampire anymore and he’s _still_ not safe, I—I _just_ got you back, you can’t—it can’t—”

Everyone is paralyzed in their seats. What can she possibly say to reassure him? His fears are completely founded. Brenner knows them, knows that they’re in Hawkins, knows about Murray, knows—

Her chest seizes in panic. Her body tightens as she tries not to let her worry show. But Mike’s still shaking next to her, Lucas and Max jump to their feet to console Mike but they’re otherwise speechless, wide eyes trembling either out of concern for Mike or from the realization of how _fucked_ they are, and at this point, she can’t even see Will or Jonathan. She furiously rubs at the tears sparkling in her eyes and pulls Mike’s shoulders so he’s facing her.

“Look at me,” Nancy demands. She cups the back of his head and threads her fingers through his hair. It’s something their mother always did. “I’m not going anywhere, understand? I’m here, Jonathan is here, _Will_ is here, and we’re—”

“Okay,” Will says morosely.

Everyone’s head snaps to look at Will.

“What is it?” Jonathan asks, his mouth creased into a frown.

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you, right? So I’ll tell you. What he did to me. What I think he’s doing. We need to stop him and it starts with this, doesn’t it?There’s never as much time as we think there is. Brenner knows what you are and that you’re in Hawkins. If he knows that, then—then I can’t keep you in the dark any longer. It’s already put you in danger.”

“Will,” Nancy says, “you know Brenner attacking us wasn’t your fault? You had nothing to do with that.”

“All of this started with me. This is on me,” Will says. “Brenner is _my_ problem.”

Nancy looks at him and really sees an adult. His cheeks are hollow, his face is gaunt, hair slightly greyed. He’s grown up while they haven’t. He’s grown up, because he was forced to, because he had no other choice. He knows what he’s talking about and that horrifies her more than anything.

“Then he’s our problem too,” Lucas says confidently. “Dude, don’t give me that look. We’ve spent two years politely agreeing with you that this is _your_ crusade, but you’re not doing this alone. We can end this, right? So tell us what to do.”

“Lucas, I won’t risk—”

“You’re not risking anything,” Max interjects. “Look at all he’s taken. Jonathan and Nancy left town because of him. He _kidnapped_ you, turned you, and turned you back into a human. He literally experimented on you! He’s the reason you’re still on the run. He’s the reason they were attacked yesterday. We’re not asking. We’re doing this.”

“ _Mike,_ ” Will says, flabbergasted. “Tell them—”

“I agree with them.” Mike’s mouth cracks into a small smile. The colour has returned to his face. “C’mon. You’re not alone. You don’t have to act like you are anymore. I want my sister back. I want your brother back. I want you.”

Will’s shoulders droop. He smiles faintly and brushes a finger against his scar. “As in you want me back?”

Mike grins impishly. “That too.”

“Brenner is not your responsibility. You’re not accountable for his actions,” Jonathan says. He claps a hand over Will’s back and looks straight into his eyes. “He stole a lot of things from you, but he’s not taking the rest of your life and ours too.”

Will returns Jonathan’s half-smile as Jonathan lightly squeezes his shoulder.

Warmth blooms in Nancy’s chest. It’s remarkable how Jonathan, stuck at seventeen while Will’s well into his early forties, still looks like an older brother. It’s not even in his soothing words and voice, but how he smiles tenderly at him, relaxing Will instantly in a way that only older siblings can do.

“Okay,” Will exhales. “You’re my best friends. You’ve helped me through everything. None of you have lost hope for me. Ever. You’ve all made this your fight long before I asked, and honestly, it’s already been yours from the moment they attacked you back in August. They’re going to pay for that, even if none of you were hurt. And they’re going to pay for what they pulled on you and Nancy yesterday.”

“Let’s do this!” Lucas exclaims. “I’m texting Dustin and El to come right now.”

“Should we get drinks or something?” Max says.

“Like alcohol?” Mike scratches the back of his neck, his eyebrows furrowing.

Max stares pointedly at Mike. “Like water! You and Will constantly look dehydrated.”

“They’re on their way,” Lucas announces. “And yeah, man, seriously. When was the last time you drank water?”

“You’re both such pricks. Here, I have an app to track how much water I drink, let me show—why the _fuck_ is Steve calling me!?”

Nancy widens her eyes. “Shit!” She grabs Mike’s phone out of his hands, ignoring his complaints as she leaps off of the sofa.

“How was Steve’s history test?” Lucas says eagerly.

Max and Mike shout, “Are you serious!?”

“What!? He was _nervous!_ Grade twelve is an important year. Dustin tried reassuring him, but—”

“Wait guys, shh for a second. _I_ can’t even hear Steve’s voice,” Jonathan says, his eyes glued on Nancy. She paces back and forth, fumbling with the phone.

Everyone’s wild heartbeats and loud voices make it difficult for her to focus. The phone nearly slips from Nancy’s hand twice before she answers it. “Jonathan, can Steve come over!?”

“You’re _now_ asking Jonathan?” Steve’s confused voice sounds over the line.

Jonathan lights up. “Yes, yes, of course—”

“I still have no idea who Steve is.” Will makes a confused face at Max and Lucas. “Wait, you said test? Is Steve a high school student?”

“That they’re dating,” Max informs gleefully.

“I didn’t tell you because I was worried how you would react,” Jonathan says to Will. “Mike didn’t take it well.”

“Because I nearly walked in on the grossest possible thing!”

“Is Mike not over that!?” Steve yells, sounding even more confused.

Nancy, with anxiety coiling in her ribcage, with worry about how messy their lives are about to get, with the impending doom that everything will go wrong, is relieved that in the midst of chaos, she can still take a second to appreciate Mike’s appalled face. “Speaker phone.” She taps the phone. “My favourite feature.”

“Ironic considering how it took Steve fifteen minutes to teach you how to use it,” Jonathan teases.

“Uh, thirteen and a half,” Steve corrects. He sounds giddy. “Are you okay? I’m already halfway there, ’cuz I thought since Nance didn’t respond to me something might have been wrong or whatever. How’s Will!?”

Will perks up at the mention of his name. “I’m good. Hi, Steve!”

Max snickers into the back of her hand as Steve makes an incoherent sound.

“Holy shit,” Steve says. “Hi! It’s so nice to meet you—”

“You haven’t met him yet, Steve,” Mike says.

Nancy shoves Mike’s shoulder and continues to walk aimlessly around the sofas. “Shut up. You’re almost here, Steve?”

“Maybe another five minutes?”

“Are we going to tell him everything?” Jonathan rises to his feet. He crosses the distance between him and Nancy in a millisecond and cradles Nancy’s cheek so softly that she nearly melts. “I mean. Are we gonna let him hear what Will has to say?”

“ _Let me—_ ”

“He’s already on his way,” Nancy reasons. Her fingers drift to Jonathan’s hair, pushing it back to soothe not only him, but herself. “And maybe—I just—if anything goes wrong, I want him to know why. I don’t want any secrets. Will?”

“This Steve,” Will says. “You trust him?”

“More than anything,” Jonathan says easily.

“Then so do I,” Will says. “You guys think this is the right call?”

“Brenner attacked him yesterday too,” Max says. “I say yes.”

“Me too,” Lucas chimes in. “Kid would go to hell and back for Jonathan and Nancy. He’s good. He’s got a lot of fight in him.”

“I’m just worried,” Jonathan says.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Nancy adds. “We’ve already put him in so much danger. He’s a high school _senior._ ”

“Nancy,” Mike says.

Nancy tenses as everyone’s gaze flicks expectantly to Mike. “We were twelve when all of this started. You and Jonathan were just seventeen, and like, _you still are._ He’s older than all of us were back when Will went missing. We handled it. Well, us more than you.”

“Is now the _time_ to make another _haha, Nancy’s dead_ joke!?” Nancy scowls. She can also want to strangle her brother in the midst of chaos too. Good to know.

But she does appreciate the sentiment.

“Nance,” Steve’s voice cracks over the line. It brings her back into the moment. “Johnny Boy. I’m five minutes away. I’ll go back if you two want. I respect your choices here, but _I_ don’t want to leave. I want to be there for you. The very first thing you two did for me was save my life, and—”

“You saved our lives too,” Jonathan says softly. “Remember?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t just that one time. Going swimming, spending all those mornings by the woods, giving you my juice-boxes and Nance my crackers, getting to be with you and then be _with_ you, it—it changed my life, y’know? It changed me. Do you remember what I said? The night when I found out?”

“You knew it was temporary, but you wanted to do it anyway,” Jonathan says, his voice cracking.

Everything else quiets down. In this moment, all that exists is them. In this moment, all she can focus on is Jonathan’s thumb stroking her chin absentmindedly and Steve’s heavy breathing. In this moment, a crack of sunlight slips in through the window and nothing is okay, nothing is fixed, but everything is a little brighter.

“You knew we were going to leave eventually,” Nancy continues. It’s hard to believe that night was six months ago. She can still remember the rush of having Mike in her arms after all those years, seeing Lucas and Dustin all grown up, and the bone-deep relief of knowing Will was okay. She can still hear the light flickering above their heads, can still feel Steve’s mouth pressed against hers in their _first_ kiss, and can still remember how soft his bed was when they all laid tangled together for the first time. “But you were only concerned about right now.”

“Yes, exactly. But it’s all different now, isn’t it? I’m not thinking about right now anymore. I’m thinking about all the tomorrows you two can have. I want to help. At the very least, I want to be there for you as much you’ll let me. I know this can get ugly, but I’m not running.”

“Neither are we,” Nancy says decisively. Jonathan gently squeezing her shoulder reaffirms her decision. _Their_ decision. “We’ll see you soon.”

The call ends.

Before doing anything else, she closes her eyes to take one second to panic. Brenner’s cold eyes and colder voice replays in her mind. It sends a chill down her spine despite him not being here _._ She trembles, dizzy and lightheaded and _horrified_.

But when she listens to everyone’s breathing, she thinks of why she’s here. What they’re doing this for. Everything they can have back if they just push forward. About what she already has, what she’s already built with Jonathan, with the kids, her mother, Holly, Callie, Steve, all from that terrifying decision to return to Hawkins, and she’s—

She’s steady.

The second passes.

“I’m good.” Nancy opens her eyes and starts tying her hair up with the hair-tie from her wrist. She won’t steel herself yet. In her experience, you win a fight by planning beforehand. By knowing your monster and knowing your team.

Being smarter than monsters had never been difficult. Brenner isn’t that different from the what they’ve killed, really.

He won’t be different, in the end, when they kill him too.

The kids gawk at them with varying sizes of smiles.

Nancy flushes. “What?” Her mouth isn’t smiling, but her eyes are. Rarely is she ever as overwhelmed by affection and adoration like she is right now.

Jonathan’s hand rests on the small of her back. “You each can say _one_ thing about that phone-call. Then we move on. Go.”

“I cannot believe all that romantic shit came outta Steve’s mouth,” Max says. “You guys are adorable. It’s disgusting.”

“We’re not letting him use the bat, right?” Lucas says. “We can stop pretending that’s a good weapon? Please lemme give him a gun. I mean that in the most responsible way possible. Kid’s proved himself.”

Will tilts his head disbelievingly. “Did I hear that correctly? You guys have been letting him use a bat as a weapon? It’s … worked?”

“He’s a good kid.” Mike picks at a hole in his sweatpants, his voice gentle. “He can handle this. All of us can.”

Nancy shoots Mike a grateful smile.

The buzzer sounds. Jonathan scrambles to answer. “Dustin? Jane? Yeah, see you in a sec. We’re all good here.”

Max clears her throat. She taps her fingers against her knee. “Will, whenever you’re ready.”

Jonathan and Nancy each pull out a chair for Dustin and Jane before sitting next to their brothers.

“You’re safe now.” Jonathan drops his hand against Will’s shoulder. “All of us have got you.”

Will releases a shaky exhale. He takes the time to look at each of them. It’s like meeting their eyes helps him believe that he’s really okay, that he can talk about what’s happened since 1983 without any of it happening again.

“Okay,” he says, and then he’s off.

.

.

.

It starts out as mildly uncomfortable and only gets worse.

He doesn’t leave anything out. Describes the week in the Upside Down, how close he came to dying, how he _waited_ for it, but only got Brenner in return. How quickly everything happened after that. How Brenner’s drive seemed to be fascination more than anything; how he wanted to understand all of it.

But then Will says, _I spent four years in that lab._ Nancy can’t stomach the rest. Squeezed next to Jonathan and Steve on one of the sofas, listening to Steve’s breathing and Jonathan’s quiet, pained noises are the only things she can focus on.

It’s important. Every detail counts for something, but it physically hurts to hear.

If anything, it does make her rage burn brighter. Stronger.

At some point, she tunes back in. “I don’t understand what Brenner still wants from you. You’re cured. You said it yourself; you’re human. Why’s he still after you?”

The uptick in Will’s heartbeat is natural, but his gaze switching between Nancy and Jonathan rapidly before he lifts his shoulders in an all-too forceful shrug isn’t. “I mean, he said it right? I’m a loose thread. I know too much. I didn’t just go into hiding, but doing something, helping people, with what I know. I don’t know honestly, but as long as he’s still alive, I can’t come home. I’m not safe. Neither are you or Jonathan now.”

“What’s his deal? Did a vampire kill his children or something?” Steve asks. Nancy’s glad he can be comfortable in front of everyone, but the _casualty_ in his voice makes her wince.

“No. He’s just … fascinated. Vampires to him are like lab rats. They’re monsters to him too, but also an opportunity,” Will says. “A weapon.”

“Maybe a vampire killed his parents,” Dustin says.

“Doesn’t really matter in the end, I guess, if a vampire killed someone he loved.” Jonathan licks his lips and scratches the back of his head. “He’s going to be killed by one in the end, anyway.”

Everyone stares at him. Max’s crumpled juice-box falls to the floor. Even Jane seems mystified, clutching onto Max’s ankle from her spot on the floor.

Nancy’s used to Jonathan’s determination, but she’s never heard him talk about killing like this. But with their lives, Will and hers included, it makes complete sense.

Jonathan touches his cheek self-consciously. “What?”

“That was not only metal, but _especially_ metal coming from you,” Steve says, awed.

“I cannot believe I’m agreeing with Steve on this—”

“You know, Mike, that wasn’t necessary to include,” Steve grits out. He quiets at the hand Nancy presses against his thigh, lacing their fingers, and then does the same with Jonathan.

“But are you okay with that, man? I mean, are all of you? If this is what it comes to?”

The lights flicker. It’s been dark out for a few hours. Their talk carried into the evening. No one has slept properly, but Mike’s question wakes and alerts everyone up.

Will sets his jaw. “This isn’t a decision any of you have to be part of. I’ll take care of it. None of you should have this on your conscious.”

“He’s not a person after everything he’s done,” Lucas says, eyes flashing. “Besides. Is it really murder if you’re killing a monster?”

Nancy leans across Steve to pry Jonathan’s fingers out of his fist and to keep her fingers from doing the same.

“You’re not doing this alone,” Dustin says.

“And are you forgetting that you’re not the only person whose life he’s fucked with?” Jane reminds him, not unkindly. “I didn’t leave Dad’s cabin for two years. He made a promise to me that he would get him back for this, for everything, because _look at all he’s done,_ Will. He never got the chance to but we do. We’re taking it. We’ll kill him for you, with you. Whatever you want.”

Nancy quietly admires the steel in Jane’s voice. No tremor. No shaking. Not even a blink. She does curl up against Max’s legs when the latter tangles her fingers in her hair. That just makes Nancy admire her more.

“C’mon,” Jonathan says quietly. “I thought we already agreed on this, bud.”

Will looks much younger when he smiles like that, softly and full of appreciation. “And we’re okay with bringing a seventeen year-old into this? I just wanna make sure.”

Nancy and Jonathan look at each other, nearly breaking into hysterical laughter.

They’re still seventeen too.

“I’m turning eighteen in two months!” Steve huffs. “I’m _literally_ older than Nancy and Jonathan.”

“No one agrees with that,” Mike says. “No one. You’re a baby.”

“I’m honestly tempted to put a bumper seat in my car for whenever we go out.” Max grins.

“I want to make you hold my hand when we cross the street.”

“Dustin!”

“We’re having fun, Steve!”

Steve leans into the sofa, so fucking cute as he actually _pouts._

“C’mon,” Nancy says, laughing. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Am not,” Steve says.

“You are, though.” Jonathan strokes the back of Steve’s head, slowly and at the base of his skull, the way Steve likes. He sends Nancy a knowing smile.

“Everyone here is a child,” Jane offers. “Max is on her third juice-box. They all have friendship bracelets.”

Nancy can’t help but smile. “Jane, don’t _you_ also have a friendship bracelet?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t a child.”

Nancy doesn’t want to interrupt this. Everyone’s sprawled out in Mike’s living room. Finished and half-empty juice-boxes, bottles of water, and soda cans litter the floor. It’s not like it’s been an easy day, not by any means, but spending time with them all is undeniably nice. A lightness floats in the air, one she’s gotten used to from their weekly hangouts that rotate between movies, board-games, or grabbing lunch. She loves them all; it hits her in that moment just how much. She can’t lose this. She can’t lose them. She has to savour every moment of this while she can.

But she can’t help the impending feeling of doom.

Nancy clears her throat. “Now what? What’s our next move?”

Everyone looks expectantly at Will.

“I’ll give Kali a call. She’ll want in on this. It’ll have to wait a few days, ‘cuz she’s in Peru right now, doing—okay, details aren’t important, but for now, we can start with a place that Kal and I found. Brenner’s been spotted there a few times, where, coincidentally, a bunch of portals have been opened and monsters—”

_Beep._

Mike frowns and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. “Who’s texting me?”

“All of your friends are here,” Dustin says.

“Shut up.”

“He’s not wrong.” Will smiles. It quickly fades when Mike’s face turns to stone. “What is it?”

Nancy speeds over to Mike and leans over his shoulder. “What is it?”

Mike yanks his phone out of her reach before she peers at the screen. His heart pounds, ringing violently in Nancy’s mind. “It’s from Murray. Nancy, you shouldn’t see.”

“Why do you have his number?” Dustin asks.

“In case of anything, and these two talk to him on it. But. I don’t think it’s from him. I think—I think we know where Brenner is.”

Nancy easily swipes Mike’s phone from him. She holds it up in the air, away from his reach. “I’m stronger than you, did you forget—” She nearly drops his phone.

The text reads: _Let’s end this shall we? Bring both Mr. Byers’ and Ms Wheeler. I don’t care who else you bring. We just want them._

Attached to the text is an image of Murray, a close-up of him tied up, glasses crooked with drops of blood on the lenses, and lower lip swelling with a bruise. He’s flipping the camera off.

It’s too close to make out much of the background, but she recognizes the peeling wallpaper.

Nancy knows she needs to get up. They need to leave. It’s all happening, all right now. New Jersey is _eleven hours_ away. There’s no time to stand around and cry.

But she can’t help the terrible, guttural sob that escapes her throat as she cries anyway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> late chapter. sorry about that! editing took a lot out of me, especially when you reread something so often that it just seems Wrong. i'm pretty sure i missed a bunch of typos regardless, so extra apologies for that.
> 
> i would have more to say about this chapter if i wasn't so tired and ready to sleep for 15 hours, but i do have two things. 
> 
> one: chapter count is definitely going up by one or two chapters, so that's something to look forward to! i'll get around to changing the actual chapter count on ao3 when i've written more. (isn't it wild that we're SEVEN chapters in?? we're almost done!!! and everything is picking up!!)
> 
> two: updates might start getting slower. idk why, but i'm starting to struggle a bit with writing the rest of this. chapter 8 is nearly finished and chapter 9 has been started, so it's coming, but not as _well_ as i would want it to, you know? and i do need lots of time to edit and make sure i'm happy with it. i really wanted to finish/post all of this fic before season 3, but i guess we'll see. :/ just a heads up, though! maybe my inspiration will come back this week (but for the sake of my grades, maybe not.)
> 
> comments are _greatly appreciated_ and will definitely help with this funk i've gotten into. i am definitely not above asking for validation. i would really, really love to know what you think. i hope you're are doing well! sending lots of love and warmth your way. come say hi on tumblr, trulyalpha! until next time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this goes out to michelle, who will not read this for awhile, because she is incredibly slow at reading. thank you for all your help with this chapter and for your support as i went through an awful bout of writer's block. (i know you hate that term, but like. it's the term!) i love you.

For a split second, everything is quiet. This is the closest things will be to calm for some time.

But what with Nancy and Mike’s faces split in horror, it doesn’t take long for everyone to register this.

“What is it, Nance?”

“Nancy, hey, are you okay?”

“Mike, are you going to say  _something_ —”

“Why are they both staring at us? Do you—oh God, is someone  _dead_?”

“I don’t understand why Jane can’t just. You know. Get the phone out of Nancy’s hand.”

“I respect Nancy, Lucas. Come on.”

“No one’s dead,” Nancy says, her voice cold and empty. Everyone falls quiet at the tone in her voice. Someone presses a hand to her shoulder and it takes her a few seconds to realize it’s Jonathan.

With trembling hands, she turns the phone over in her hand so everyone can see the picture of Murray. She waits a few seconds so that everyone can see the picture and the attached message before speaking. “Not—I mean, not yet. Would he—do you think Brenner would kill him, Will?”

Someone makes a low, broken sound. Nancy belatedly realizes it’s Jonathan. She leans forward to stroke his chin, but cannot will any words of comfort out of her mouth. Nothing is real right now. The floor beneath her seems like it will swallow her whole any second now.

Steve rubs up and down Jonathan’s back, murmuring, “Hey, hey, stay with us, stay with me,” but he cannot keep his voice from shaking.

Monsters are nothing compared to this. No amount of them can prepare anyone for this.

Dustin has whitened completely with wide eyes. Lucas hugs his knees to his chest, his lips parted. Max, having paled, grabs onto Dustin’s knee and reaches for Jane’s hand. Mike chews on his fingernails while looking between Nancy and Jonathan rapidly.

The only people who are utterly calm are Nancy, Will, and Jane. It hurts to realize this.

Will stands up and starts to pace back and forth. “He wouldn’t. At least not until you’re there. Murray’s a nuisance right, but do you think—I mean, was he investigating anything? Anything leading back to Brenner? I mean, Murray did help hide you two, that’s grounds for a grudge, but he’s a human, so I don’t see this as anything other than leverage. He’s fine. For now.”

“I don’t understand.” Jane clenches her jaw. She raises the hand clutching onto Max’s to her cheek.  “Why now? Why attack Jonathan in August, but wait five months to retaliate? Why not come here? Go at us again? What’s the fucking  _point_?”

“I’ve been trying to figure this guy out for years,” Will grits out. He sounds pained, scratching his chin like it’s incredibly itchy. “But honestly, your guess for his logic is as good as mine. But taking Murray guarantees more than attacking you. It’s a safer bet, because no matter where he attacks you, he’ll make a scene. If he comes in here, he’ll alert Mike’s neighbours.  _But_  New Jersey, in a tiny little house in the middle of nowhere, who’s going to notice anything? And he likes—he likes making threats. It’s a thing.” Will stops pacing. “I’ve been on the move for some time. I don’t know much, but I know some things.”

“You know a lot,” Dustin says. “Don’t say it like that. You’ve done good. You know way more than we do, not including Jonathan and Nancy, but I wish you didn’t. You know?”

Will’s shoulders sag. He manages a warm smile. “Yeah. Thanks, Dustin.”

“We need to go,” Jonathan says. “We need—we need to. This is what we wanted, right? An opportunity to get to Brenner. To end this. We get him, we get answers, we get information on where he’s keeping his shit and all his research, whatever you and Kali want. We get him, we get our lives back.”

“Alright, lemme just grab a water bottle.”

“I need to use the washroom.”

“I need to stretch.”

“I need—”

“Whoa, what are you kids talking about?” Nancy doesn’t understand why all the kids are giving her a flat look until she goes over what she said. She rolls her eyes when she gets it, crossing her arms over her chest. “Okay, fine, you middle-aged children. You’re not coming. Will, Jane, Jonathan, and me. That’s it.”

Mike bolts off of the sofa cushion, eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline. “What about me?” He sounds twelve again, his voice edging on a whine. It almost makes Nancy smile, as she thinks of different days, a different life.

“I can be helpful!” Max insists. She sounds offended, shooting Nancy a betrayed look.

“I don’t—that’s not what I meant!” Nancy rubs her temples. They don’t  _get_  it. She looks at Jonathan for help, gesturing vaguely to the kids.

Jonathan sighs. “You can’t come. It’s not safe. It isn’t your fight.”

“Oh my God,” Lucas interrupts. “If any one of you say that one more time, I’m going to throw up. Your fight, my fight, look. We can waste time arguing about this or we can get moving. You cannot possibly do this just the four of you. There’s power in numbers and we don’t know what’s waiting for you in New Jersey, but you don’t have to do this alone. If something goes wrong, then we’ll never know, and—and we’re not doing that again.” He stares Will, Jonathan, and Nancy down.

The rest of the kids do the same.

Some of the colour returns to Jonathan’s face.He still clings onto Steve’s hand and leans into Nancy’s touch as he says, “We understand if any of you want to stay in Hawkins.”

No one makes a noise.

“Seriously, it’s okay—”

“Jonathan, shut up!” Dustin claps a hand over his mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry, but Lucas is right! There isn’t enough time to bicker over this.”

Steve nods earnestly. He runs a hand through his hair and steps forward. “I’m glad you cleared that up, man, let’s get goin’.”

“No!”

Steve jumps at the sound of Nancy and Jonathan’s intermingled voices. “What!? Oh no, don’t you dare! What happened to letting me  _in_ , didn’t I make a huge romantic speech that I’m pretty sure everyone heard—”

“What speech—”

“Jane, it was  _so_  good, you missed out. I said so many—wait, I’m getting distracted. I’m coming. Let me. We’re going in circles. I won’t come into the house if you don’t want, but I can’t possibly wait here while all of you drive out to fucking New Jersey.”

“You have school!” Nancy exclaims. “This is your most important year of high school. We told you we’re not ruining your life and we meant that.”

“I’m on spring break, remember? I have a week off!”

“Oh my god, he’s like five,” Will says. “He’s a baby!”

Mike smiles weakly at Will, then at Steve. His face softens. “He has a container of juice-boxes on him at all time.”

“It’s for  _Jonathan!_ And you like the apple ones. Don’t bother lying. Look, my point is that I’m good. I’m game. Friendly reminder that you  _adults_  giving me the  _juice-box_  crap were twelve when you killed vampires and went looking for your friend. Jonathan and Nancy were seventeen when they did the same thing. Nothing and no one would’ve stopped you. I don’t see how this is different.”

Nancy meets Jonathan’s eyes. She deflates as Jonathan nods, as always, on the same page as her. This is a losing fight. This is Steve, one hundred percent in. She can’t lie and say she doesn’t want him with them through every anxiety-ridden second.

“You won’t come inside,” Jonathan says slowly. “Promise?”

“Would it be pushing it if I asked one of the kids to watch you in the car?” Nancy adds, twirling a dry strand of her hair.

Steve huffs, as if to say yes, but smiles faintly. He tilts his head towards the door. “We’ll negotiate this in the car.”

“Okay, let’s get going!” Mike says, exhaling when everyone clambers to their feet, moving toward the door.

But of course, there’s one thing stopping them. Stopping Nancy and Mike in particular.

“Oh, fuck me,” Nancy sighs.

Everyone except for Jonathan, who curses under his breath, sends her a confused look.

“Holly and  _my mom_  are on their way in.”

“MOM!”

Everyone stares at Jonathan, but his only focus is Will. He grabs his brother’s shoulders. “You  _need_  to see mom. I know it’s going to be okay, but we can’t leave for something like this without … she has to know, Will.”

Mike waves a hand in front of Nancy’s face. She slaps it away. “What?”

“Mom! And Holly! We need to figure out what to tell them. I mean, we said—we said no lies, right? Not anymore?”

“Oh my God, everything is such a—”

Steve claps his hands five times in a row and actually looks puzzled when everyone stops and stares. “Clearly we have all have shit to do, so why don’t we like, you know? Give it an hour? Then everyone meets back here. Y’know, shower, eat if you have to do. Or tell your mom that you’re still alive after not seeing her for almost forty years. I know, we’re running out of time, but New Jersey’s already nearly half a day away anyway. This is only an hour. Besides, I’m pretty sure half of you haven’t showered.”

“They haven’t,” Jonathan confirms, wrinkling his nose.

“We do need weapons.” Dustin shoots Steve a small smile and claps his back. “Regroup here at exactly five and then we’re off?”

“Text every fifteen minutes. In case anything happens,” Jonathan adds.

“We’ll be fine,” Max says.

“If anything happens though …” Nancy wills that thought away. “Do it, okay? And no one go by themselves.”

“Not a problem since half of us live together,” Lucas says. He grabs Dustin’s wrist. “Dustin and I will head to our house, I’m assuming El and Max will too.”

That leaves Nancy, Mike, Jonathan, Will, and Steve staring at each other. “I mean.” Mike gestures to himself and Nancy, then to Will and Jonathan. “Right?”

Steve raises a hand. “Hi, what about me?”

“Maybe stay with Nancy,” Jonathan says. “We have a lot to do.”

Will ducks his head, scratching the back of his neck. Even Jonathan looks slightly uncomfortable despite the small, encouraging smile he gives Will. They really have no idea why Will didn’t ever see Joyce. She and Jonathan accepted it without question when the kids told them that Will didn’t want her knowing.

Now certainly wasn’t the time to ask. “Are you okay to drive?” Nancy pulls the keys out of her back-pocket and shoves them into Jonathan’s palm. She strokes his scar without thinking, smiling barely when Jonathan curls his fingers around hers.

“Will can’t drive?” Steve asks.

“You can’t drink,” Mike says.

“I wasn’t even  _talking_  to you!”

Mike’s mouth cracks into a slight smile. He elbows Will and raises an eyebrow. “He won’t let us teach him.”

Max laughs and pokes Will’s faint blush. “It’s ridiculous, because he was a literal vampire, he still could take down—”

“Michael! Nancy!” Karen’s voice booms from the other side of the door.

“Shit.” Nancy hastily ties her hair into a ponytail and cranes her head to the door. “Everyone, out. Do and get what you need. Essentials only. Be safe. Text the group-chat. If you see a car following—”

“Nancy,” Jane says. “We’ve been doing this for awhile. We have some idea of what to do. Don’t worry. Not until you have to.”

It occurs to her now that no one was really freaking out. Everyone’s heartbeats, including Steve’s, were steady, almost still in their calmness. Would hers be erratic? Would she be able to focus on anything but the violent pounding in her chest? It was a stupid thing to wonder, and yet.

The kids are all so old. Not compared to her and Jonathan, but in general. They were adults with houses and pets and children to check on. Just the other day in the grocery mart, the cashier asked Mike if Nancy was her daughter after they bickered over which chocolate bar to get from at the front. Nancy flicked his shoulder and said  _we can get both!_

At the time, it was funny. Nancy has long since made her peace with it. Still. Moments like these, she wishes she was there for the jump from them being twelve and not fearless but fighting anyway, to this.

A fist pounds against the front door. “Nancy, I know you can hear us. C’mon. You haven’t seen me without my Chief’s uniform in ages!”

“Good luck,” Lucas sighs. He pats Mike’s shoulder and walks past him, Dustin trailing behind him.

Dustin gives Nancy a thumbs-up. “You’ve got this!”

“Remember it’s not a goodbye,” Max says knowingly.

Will smiles at Nancy as he pushes his hair out of his face. “It won’t be easy, but it’ll be okay.”

“Thank you.” Appreciation swells in her chest, pouring out of her as Jane wordlessly hugs Nancy with strong and comforting arms.

As everyone shuffles towards the door, Karen tapping the door impatiently on the other side, she sifts through the crowd to find Jonathan. Mike was whispering something to Will while Will touches the small of his back, so she tugs on Jonathan’s arm. “It’ll be okay. Tell me you believe that and I will.”

Jonathan covers her hand with his. “It has to be. It doesn’t end like this.” His  _right?_  hangs unspoken in the air. How can she reassure him when she can’t do the same to herself, when she needs—

“It doesn’t.” Steve touches Jonathan’s shoulder, then Nancy’s. For the second time, Steve acts like he’s the one who knows how little power you have over things like death and pain, but for the first time, she believes him.

“I love you,” Nancy tells Jonathan, like she has a million times, still meaning it as much as she had the first time. “Steve, I—”

A fist hits the door again, harder. “I can hear footsteps! How can you ignore your mother—oh, hi, Dustin.”

Nancy and Mike turn to Dustin, who had swung the door open, at the same time to glare at him.  _“Dustin!”_

Dustin winces. “Sorry! I couldn’t help myself. You can’t leave your mom and sister in the hallway like that.”

Holly beams at the sight of all of Mike’s friends, waving eagerly at each of them. “Thanks, Dustin! Hi guys.”

“Hi, Holly.”

Will’s determined look crumbles as his eyes rake over Holly, then Karen. His eyes water and his mouth drops, but he quickly scurries forward and past them. “One hour,” he calls out as he exits Mike’s apartment, pulling Jane with him.

“I’m coming!” Jane hisses.

The kids flood the apartment hallway. Nancy nods at Jonathan, pointedly tracing the scar on her palm, knowing he’ll understand.

Jonathan lifts his arm above his head as he walks backwards out of the apartment. He pokes his scar. It’s an  _I love you too_.

Karen says goodbye to the kids. The moment she steps inside, her bright exterior shifts to a glare. She drops her hand to her hip. “You two. What was that? We were in the hallway for ages!”

Steve awkwardly shuffles forward to close the door. “Hi, Mrs. Wheeler.”

“Hi, honey.” Karen smiles and envelops Steve into a brief hug. “Steve, would you ever leave your mother outside like that?”

Mike scowls and shakes his head. “Steve, would your mother call before showing up at your apartment or just come unannounced?”

Nancy rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet, unable to appreciate the familiar banter playing out in front of her.

“What happened?” Holly crosses her arms and tilts her head at her siblings. Her eyes narrow as she examines Nancy and Mike’s expressions. It must be what she looks like when she’s been given a strange case, which considering Hawkins, is frequent. “Something happened. Nancy never fidgets like that. Get on with it.”

Nancy just unlocks Mike’s phone, shoves it into Holly’s hands, and lets Mike explain.

.

.

.

“You cannot go” and “I’m coming with you” are the first things said after Mike finishes.

Where to start with that? Nancy sits in front of her mother and younger sister. She tenses when a hand presses against her back, only to sigh when she realizes it’s Steve. “Neither of that can happen, do you understand? And mom, do not tell me to go to the police, because you have to understand  _why_  we can’t do that. Jonathan and I aren’t supposed to still look like this. Plus, Brenner got his charges dismissed in five seconds flat, imagine—no. We have to go.”

“I’m coming,” Holly repeats. She keeps rocking back and forth like she cannot contain herself, wringing her hands. “I’m the Chief. I’m as qualified as the rest of you, probably more than Mike.”

Mike scoffs. “Unnecessary. And you’re not coming.”

Holly glowers at him and points at Steve. “Is  _he_  coming?”

Nancy and Mike meet each other’s gazes and sigh at the same time. Holly’s already won. “Fine,” Nancy relents. This is her life. This is really happening.

Karen waves her hands out, looking bewildered, but mostly livid. “Excuse me? No!”

“Mom—”

“C’mon—”

“You can’t—”

“Yes, I can! I’m putting my foot down.” She literally stamps on the carpeted floor. Nancy wonders if Holly and Mike also have to remind themselves how grave the situation is to stifle their laughter.

Holly touches Karen’s forearm. She opens her mouth, but her chin wobbles before she can get anything out.

Mike, sitting on Karen’s other side, strokes her back and says softly, “Mom. We’re all adults.”

“Nancy isn’t!” Karen’s voice breaks horribly, her words clenched around a sob. “Nancy isn’t, and she never will be. And, okay, it’s not a good hand, but it’s better than her actually dying. I cannot lose one of you. I cannot risk all of you. You promised you’d be safe. Remember? You promised.”

Nancy jolts out of the sofa and bends down in front of Karen. “Mom, look at me. Look.” She waits until Karen looks at her, her eyes shining with tears. It takes every ounce of effort in Nancy’s body not to burst into tears with her mom. “We can’t stay here. We have to go. Murray is the only reason that I’m still me. Even if—even if I did leave him, there’s no saying this ends. Will needs to come home.”

“Will? Will is okay, what—”

“Shit,” Nancy curses. “Well, now you know.”

Mike scowls. “Nancy, come on!”

“Okay, who is mom going to tell, relax. But Mom, this will work. And when it does, after all of this, he can come home. We can  _stay_ home. We have to do this. For Murray, Will, Jonathan.”

Karen chuckles wetly. She grabs Nancy’s hands and squeezes, tighter than Nancy expects. “This man is after you and Jonathan, and even then, you still say how this is for them and not yourself. You kids, you love so recklessly. Your lives have been defined by it. Even now, after everything, you still—you still.”

Nancy freezes. Her hands go limp. Karen doesn’t let go, quietly chuckling through the stream of tears still gushing down her face. “Is that a good thing, mom?”

“Yes and no. Mostly yes, but no at times like this. I know I can’t tell you what to do anymore and I can’t stop you, but, please, come back to me. All of you. If you get hurt, Nancy can fix it.”

Nancy barks out a laugh before she can help herself. Steve’s the only one who doesn’t look confused by this. “I’m sorry, it’s just that mom said it like it was normal. Like she was leaving us alone for the weekend or something. I don’t know. Stop staring at me.”

They’re her family. Of course they don’t listen.

“Look, we’ll be fine,” Nancy continues. “At twelve, Mike killed two vampires and—”

“You did what, Michael!?”

Mike shrugs. He looks amused at their mother’s shrill voice. “See, I wasn’t holed up in our basement my entire childhood. I did things.”

“Is things what we’re calling you leaving the basement to watch TV?” Holly grins. Nancy belatedly notices her casual attire. Her baby blue sweatshirt has a dried, yellowish stain on the sleeve. Her sweatpants are a bright red. Her hair is tied up into a sloppy bun. She looks blissful. Not like she agreed to go on a eleven-hour car ride to New Jersey to save the life of an elderly man who helped her older sister not, like, kill people from a piece of shit who sees Nancy and Jonathan as lab rats from an experiment. Lab rats that he’s owed. Lab rats like what Will used to be, but cannot escape from.

Karen looks at Steve. “Are you going?”

Steve looks at Nancy with a panicked expression, rubbing his hands together. “Um. Nancy. Can you answer that.”

Nancy smiles. She leans her head against his arm. “Are you nervous? Because my mom is here? As if she’ll look down on you for doing what her children are doing.”

Steve wraps his arm around Nancy’s shoulder. “I’m not her child.” He smiles tentatively at Karen. “I need to impress her.”

Karen snorts. “Don’t be as stupid as these three. Easy.”

After a minute of Nancy, Mike, and Holly yelling over each other, shooting betrayed looks at Karen, defending themselves and taking this way too seriously, Karen raises a hand. “Let’s go over this. Nancy. Waited years to tell me what happened. Thought saying  _who’s Nancy_  would get Holly to think she wasn’t seeing her older sister.”

“I don’t know what you thought I would respond to that with,” Holly says, smirking at Nancy. “Valid point.”

“And you, Holly—”

“Mom!”

“You wanted to name my granddaughter Holey. Spelled with an ’e’. A combination of you and Haley’s names.”

Steve cheers. A blush sweeps down his neck when everyone looks at him. “I stand by that. It’s metal as hell. You guys are cute.”

“You’re cute.” Holly beams at Steve the same way Nancy and Mike do with Callie. She gently elbows Karen and raises her eyebrows in a mix of exasperation of fondness. “And did we end up naming her that?”

Mike snorts. He lifts his head up from the floor to look at Holly. “No, because Haley threatened divorce.”

Karen barks out a laugh. “You’re not immune, Michael.”

Mike drops his head back to the floor. He groans. “Mom. Please don’t.”

Nancy laughs and extends her leg to lightly kick Mike’s back. “Mom doesn’t need your please don’t. We can do this just fine. Let’s start with you breaking into Steve’s house to meet me instead of talking to mom first?”

“Mom was out of town! I couldn’t wait!”

“You could’ve talked to Holly.”

“Who would tell Holly things?”

Holly leans down to kick Mike’s back, harder than Nancy had. “And look who knew before you.” Her triumphant look fades. “Shit.” She sinks her hand into her sweatshirt’s pocket and fishes out her phone, frowning as her screen lights up with a message. “It’s Haley. I have to tell her. I have to—do we pack? Bring clothes?”

“Bring essentials, enough to fit into a fanny-pack. Your wallet. Your gun. Obviously.”

Holly nods. Her eyes sharpen at the word  _gun_  and she reaches for the side of her waist, patting expectantly. “Not a problem. I’ll be back. Twenty minutes tops. I’m in this, okay?” She leaves without another word or glance.

The tears on Karen’s face haven’t dried when Steve clears his throat. “I make a killer green tea, Karen.”

“He means he can put a bag of water in hot water really well.” Mike pauses. “I would love a cup, please.”

Steve’s hand slips to her shoulder. He squeezes gently. “Nance?”

“I’ll come with you.” In less than half an hour, they won’t have a second to themselves for who knows how long. She only needs a few minutes. Don’t get her wrong. She believes everything will ultimately be okay. Nancy’s anger alone should be enough for Brenner to just dissipate into a pile of ash on sight.

It’s more like she has no idea how long this will take. She needs  _this_  before it starts.

With a kiss to Karen’s forehead and a ruffling of Mike’s hair, Nancy follows Steve into the kitchen. Once they’re out of earshot, she rises on her tiptoes to press her face against his cheek.

His arms automatically wrap around her waist. “Hey, are you good?”

“You said all of those things earlier. I didn’t get a chance to say anything when you came. I really don’t know what to say. You stunned the romance out of me. You took my breath away. If I could. You know.”

“In a way, Brenner took your breath away.”

She pulls back to give Steve a pointed look, carding her fingers through his hair. “I’m excusing that because you’re going with us.”

“Fair. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Nancy swallows. She cups his jaw and presses a kiss against it. “You know it’s okay if you don’t want to come. He took Murray, he could—”

“He won’t. Nancy, he won’t. I’ve killed a monster! I can take care of myself. Plus, Lucas is one hundred percent getting me a gun. Can you imagine? Me with a gun?”

Nancy laughs. “You seem very excited about it.”

“Well, I am. Not about any other part of it, though.” His breath catches. “But he’s an old guy, right? How difficult is it to kill an old guy? There is a chance that he could have a heart attack and die before we get there. But even if, I mean, even when he dies, how are you so confident that this ends?”

“He’s the leader. It’s like pushing the first domino. Everyone else falls over. Will said he’s got something on everyone working for him, plus … plus the plan isn’t to kill him on sight. At least, I’m ninety percent sure it isn’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We could get information out of him. What he knows. The people he’s hurt. All the missing people in the country. Where the labs are.”

“But how?”

Nancy licks her mouth. She can taste the faint tang of blood, somehow. “Steve. Think about it.”

“Oh.”

“It’s for the greater good, you know, and—and I mean, this isn’t that different from murder, which you know—”

“I don’t see an issue.”

“Oh.” She pushes her hand against his chest, can feel it beat underneath her palm. “Our lives were so different a year ago. I was in New Jersey. I hadn’t seen either of my siblings. Jonathan and I had no idea where Will was. I didn’t know you existed.”

“Meanwhile, I got into a lacrosse phase. It didn’t last.” He leans close until his nose brushes against hers. “Would you change any of it?”

“Hmm?”

“If you could go back. Leave Hawkins sooner, avoid this Brenner disaster. Would you?”

“What a stupid question.” She brushes her lips against his. “Stupid, stupid question.” She used to go back and analyze the series of decisions that led her and Jonathan to their deaths, that led Barb to hers often. In the first few years, she wanted so badly to have a do-over. To avoid the whole mess. To do better. To save her friend. Would her actions have changed anything? It was the question she tried answering, until years came and went without her and she gave up.

 _We died for something meaningful_ , Jonathan had told her a few months ago. They had. They died for love. Whether she wanted it to change the pain of it all or not, it was true. Maybe this would end terribly. Maybe she would die. Maybe she would regret going to New Jersey, but she didn’t regret any of what led her to doing it.

At least she had this; these past few months in her home with the people she loves. Nothing would take that away from her. Nothing would be a price too high to pay for it. Nothing would make her regret it.

“Why, do you?”

Steve laughs, the sound ringing pleasantly in her ears as he raises his hands to cup her face. “No. Life was great. I wouldn’t say it was missing anything, but you two just made everything better. Like. I was just obsessed from the moment Jonathan pushed me out of the way and you just. Tossed that monster’s fucking head in your hands like it was a ball. Plus, I like Mike, and his friends, and Holly. They’re cool. It’s nice. This is all really nice.”

She nearly blurts out how the kids are already planning  Steve’s gift for his birthday next month. Even if she did, they wouldn’t be that mad at her because, somehow, they still saw Nancy as Mike’s older, terrifying sister. They still hesitated to swear in front of her and would look instinctively at her and Jonathan when something—a mug, let’s say—broke. They would look at Jonathan in a  _shit, what should we with_  kind of way and at Nancy in a  _SHIT, what did we do_ kind of way.

She loves them for it.

“Yeah, it is.” Nancy kisses him properly, cradling his head. She focuses on the feel of his soft hair beneath her fingertips. “You want some tea now?”

“Like? About who?” Steve blinks. “Wait. I can’t believe I—I’m really glad you don’t understand that and can’t make fun of me.”

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re cute. Let’s get the tea!”

.

.

.

After the tea, Karen hugged Nancy and Mike tightly, but eventually had to let go. Everything after that was a blur. Nancy could still feel her mother’s comforting and reassuring grasp fifteen minutes into the car ride.

A twelve hour ride was quite anticlimactic.

Energy buzzes in her as she bounces her leg. She needs to hit something, but all that’s here in this cramped minivan are nine other people and four bags of Cheetos.

“I don’t even like Cheetos,” Max grunts. “Why am I eating them?”

“Because this is a stressful time,” Lucas sighs from the passenger seat. “And Nancy, Jonathan, I swear if you guys say  _it’s okay, you can still go back,_ I will throw this at you.”

Dustin snorts. “No, you won’t. I won’t be able to get this stain out of the seats.”

“Why do you have an eight-seat car anyway? You’re a family of three,” Mike half-grumbles, laid out on the floor of the car by Holly, Max, and Jane’s feet.

“Maybe I consider us family, Mike. Maybe I bought this car thinking about you.”

“Did you?”

“God no.”

“Why am I kind of disappointed now?” Mike chuckles. It comes out as scratchy and quiet.

Will snorts. Nancy can’t quite see what they’re doing in the row of seats ahead of her, Jonathan, and Steve, but she’s pretty sure Will’s face is buried in Mike’s shoulder or chest.

She and Jonathan remain quiet. Steve had already fallen asleep; they carefully aligned his body onto their lap, giving them both more space and hopefully less strain in Steve’s neck.

Jonathan traces shapes on Nancy’s knee, his eyes half-closed. “Do we have a plan?”

“We have time to think of one,” Jane sighs. “I mean, I figured we would just. Go into your old house. Take Brenner and Murray and go. You two can move quickly and I can kill people without moving a muscle. So what if he prepared this attack, I don’t understand what he can do to stop us.”

“It’s not what he can do to us that worries me. It’s—it’s him. He could hurt Murray,” Jonathan says. His voice breaks as Nancy reaches out to touch his shoulder. “But if it comes to you or him, make your own call. Don’t—you don’t owe us anything.”

“Stop,” Jane says, not unkindly.

“It won’t come down to that,” Max says firmly. Her head rests on Jane’s shoulder. “We all know what we’re doing. We’ve got two vampires, a telekinetic, a Chief, Mike’s rage, Dustin and Lucas’ years worth of gun-range experience, my black belt, and Steve’s—I don’t know. His rage too.”

“What am I angry about?” Steve murmurs into Jonathan’s thigh, voice thick and groggy.

“You’re a teen. You’re angry about everything,” Dustin says. “The government. Global warming. Old fucks trying to kill your partners.”

“Yeah. Yeah! My anger is power.”

“Yes it is,” Jonathan says, amused. He taps his foot against Nancy’s. An  _are you with us?_ A few seconds later, he rests his hand on her knee. An  _it’s okay if you aren’t._

She blinks, hard. Tries to rub all the exhaustion out of her eyes. “I’m pretty sure we could all go at Brenner with our bare hands and kill him. But then again he’s like, ancient.”

The car hits a pothole. Nancy’s stomach coils, bile rising in her throat. It’s like the darkness of the night has swallowed her whole, but then Steve shifts in their laps and Jonathan’s knee presses against hers, and she’s not good, but she’s not not good either.

“You know, he’s only sixty-three,” Will says.

The car swerves. Dustin swears. “I’m sorry about that, but—sixty-three? Does that mean he was—oh God, someone else do the math.”

Nancy and Jonathan gawk at each other. It is extremely strange to think about how Brenner isn’t that much older than them.

“Thirty,” Holly says hoarsely. “He was thirty.”

Nancy bends down and rifles through the bags of drinks they brought. She grabs what she hopes is water and taps Holly’s shoulder. “Drink some. You sound—I mean terrible is an exaggeration, but—”

“You could’ve left the sentence at drink some.” Holly cranes her head and accepts the bottle nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“Let’s go back to that,” Lucas says. “Thirty. He was a thirty year-old former CIA agent running experiments, basically torturing children and unleashing literal monsters into the world for like. Science.”

“Now I’m even more scared of him. What thirty year-old can do all of that? And the bitch is still not finished. Oh my God.”

Maybe Max said that. Or Dustin? Nancy’s not quite sure, not sure who’s humming in agreement, who asks to turn the radio on to distract themselves from the terrors of this old white guy, and Nancy’s—

so damn tired. She falls asleep.

.

.

.

Of course Nancy’s first Barb nightmare in months comes now.

It’s not a particularly creative one. It’s just Barb’s severed head, in the corner of the woods, horror forever plastered on her face. Not forever, really. Just until she rotted.

Nancy wakes up gasping, clenching the nearest thing in sight—someone’s arm. “I need—pull over, I can’t—I can’t—”

The night sky is still pitch-black, the roads completely deserted. It bothers her, how empty everything is. Where are the people, where’s the life, how is everyone okay with the car speeding on by while everything is still, while—

“Nancy! Hey, hey, you’re safe, I promise.”

“Nance, you’re okay, we’re here.”

“Should I pull over?”

“Give her water. Just give her water, one of you.”

Nancy roughly wipes her face, eyes still shut. “Can everyone please shut the fuck up.”

Silence follows instantly.

“Thank you. Sorry.” She curls her toes, wishing she could stretch, stand, move, do anything except sit here and wait. Everything feels numb. She wants to fall back asleep, but she also doesn’t. She knows it’s not Barb’s fault that Nancy’s stupid brain keeps reliving that night, over and over again, but couldn’t Barb’s ghost do anything about it?

 _You know I’m doing my best!_ Nancy wants to tell her.  _I’m literally avenging you. Grant me peace._

Barb would probably tell her that the only person who could give her peace was herself. Then tell her that ghosts cannot control dreams and tell her she needed more sleep.

_I would if you weren’t fucking—_

“Here.” Jonathan’s fingers linger on hers as he passes her a water bottle. His hand covers hers. “Is there anything you need?”

Every ounce of bitterness and anger drains out of her instantly. It’ll come back, later when she needs it. For now, all she needs is to curl up on her boys’ laps and just be for some time.

Steve strokes her ankles. Jonathan touches her back. It’s nice.

“Nancy, are you alright?”

“’M okay, Holly.” She could tell by the snoring and the heartbeats who was awake and who wasn’t. Max, Mike, Will, Jane, and Lucas are knocked out. “Did I miss anything?”

Steve laughs. “You missed our brilliant plan.”

“Which is …?”

“Ambush the house.” Jonathan looks pained to say this. It’s incredibly inappropriate to laugh right now, but she cannot help herself, especially as she thinks about how many brilliant plans Jonathan has come up with over the years, but the most important fight of their lives starts like this. “We count the people there and go in and hope for the best. One of us goes for Murray, the other goes for Brenner, and the kids … go for everyone else.”

Nancy rubs the sleep out of her eyes. “That’s it? Holly, you’re the Chief.”

“I’ve never done anything like this!” Holly exclaims. She turns her head around and grips the headrest. “And we don’t know what to expect, either. This is our only option. It isn’t that bad.”

Nancy sighs. “You’re right. It’s not, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all we’ve got, but we do have an impressive team, no?” Jonathan tilts his head to the side, gestures to everyone sitting in front of them.  

Her mouth cracks into the smile. She slouches, nodding because he’s right. “I cannot believe this is my life.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. He plays with the laces of Nancy’s shoes, tying and untying them. “Your life has been fucking weird for awhile now. Why is this any different?”

“I’ve got my siblings. The rest of the kids that aren’t kids. For the first time I’m up against a monster that might actually be smarter than us. I’m dating you.”

“Why am I weird?”

Jonathan leans his head back against the headrest and shuts his eyes. “You need us to answer that for you? Really?”

Steve’s grin is more fond than teasing. “Blood kink.”

“Vampire kink,” Jonathan and Nancy say.

Holly coughs violently, her water bottle slipping from her hands to the floor. “Am I that delirious or did I really hear my older sister say vampire kink?”

“Probably both.” Nancy leans forward to push Holly’s hair back and gently nudge her back around. “Sleep. Almost everyone else has. It’s been a long day.”

“Jonathan should sleep too.” Holly’s huff is so childish and the fact that she says it through a yawn makes Nancy smile as she stares into the car ceiling and the large, green stain she’s only now noticing.

“He can’t,” Nancy says. “He can’t sleep when he’s worried.”

“Or without socks on, because he’s weird.” Steve pokes Jonathan’s ankle.

Jonathan buries his face in Steve’s neck and chuckles. “Shh. Holly just fell asleep.”

“Half of the people in this car asleep.”

“Is that why your voice keeps getting louder and louder?” Dustin says semi-sternly from the driver’s seat.

“Sorry!” Steve whisper-shouts.

Nancy watches the rise and fall of Steve’s chest as Jonathan strokes the back of her head. “I would take about a million of those monsters from last summer. That friend of Steve’s would be really helpful.” Their bodies shake against hers with laughter. She grins, pleased with herself.

“What’s the plan after this?”

Nancy’s smile falls off her face. “What do you mean, Steve?”

He gestures vaguely, mouth twisting as he struggles with the words. “You know.  _After._ After we, like, win.”

“Oh. I don’t—” Nancy shuts her mouth. Stares back at the stain. There were a lot of variables at play here. Assuming they didn’t die or weren’t kidnapped or something maybe even worse, the next stop was the cure, wasn’t it? Will was here and they would have Brenner. How would they go about it? Would Brenner be the type to let himself die than to help them? How long would it take? Will had no idea. Those years in captivity were a non-linear blur of time, one horrible thing after another.

But say that all worked out. Say Brenner gave their life back to them in exchange for his own.

Then what?

“I don’t know. I have no idea.”

“C’mon,” Steve prods. “Anything you want. What would you do?”

“Garlic bread,” Jonathan deadpans.

“You can’t eat  _garlic bread!?_  The sunlight thing isn’t true, but garlic bread is? How has this never come up?”

“You never asked.”

“I never—oh my God. What the fuck.”

“I know. Quite honestly that was the worst part.”

Steve elbows Jonathan lightly, rolling his eyes. “Shut up.”

Nancy holds back from explaining how Jonathan’s not entirely joking. Murray was a huge dick about it. He would leave garlic bread on the kitchen counter and no one could touch it or move it, just stare and want.

What an asshole.

Nancy smiles at the memory.

“I would go on a run. A really long run. You know, pant and feel my heart pump and myself actually get tired and just—run.”  If she presses her hand against her chest long and hard enough, she could almost feel what her heartbeat would be like, how it would beat and pound against her palm.

An ease sets off in Nancy’s chest as Steve rattles off with a bunch of mundane questions. They humour him, say, _sure, we’ll get social media,_  and  _yes, I would want a passport._

But then he says, softly and quietly enough that only they can hear him, “What about us?”

Nancy lightly kicks Steve’s thigh. “As if we’re going to leave you. Is that what you’re worried about?”

“No. I don’t—I don’t know. Would you move back to New Jersey?”

“Honestly,” Jonathan says, “I don’t want to ever go back to New Jersey after this. Can we make Murray move to Hawkins? Is that an option?”

“I don’t see why not,” Nancy says. “He can live with mom. Not like that, disgusting, but you know. She lives by herself and that would set up a disaster that I would want to see. You know?”

Jonathan chuckles at the idea. “You don’t have to worry. You’ve got us. I promise.”

Steve drops a kiss against Jonathan’s forehead and gives Nancy’s knee a light squeeze.“What about school and stuff?”

“Kali’s got her government hookups. We can get the documents we need, fake ones obviously. Nothing’s going to stop Nancy from going to university, or at the very least finish high school.”

“I always wanted to be a lawyer,” she admits. “I could, still. That was the fighting I always saw myself doing. Not—not this. Never this. And Jonathan can go to NYU, scholarship obviously, because, well, he’s Jonathan, and that would be perfect. But I don’t know. I mean, we’ve changed, the world has changed, we could want different things now, there would be so much to do and figure out before we could  _do_  anything. I do know this. I can’t leave the people I love again. You know?”

Steve’s mouth opens and closes. “Did you mean it like—”

“Yes, I did.”

“I don’t know if it’s too soon to say it, so I—”

“No such thing as too soon,” Jonathan murmurs. “Time is a concept.”

Nancy fondly rolls her eyes and waits for Steve’s inevitable retort.

Steve purses his lips. Sighs. “You know, Johnny Boy, I’m not even going to say it.”

“I’m kidding! You’re too easy.”

Nancy laughs and sticks her head into Jonathan’s side. “C’mon. He wants our reassurance. Give it to him.”

Jonathan makes a startled noise when Nancy pokes his waist with her nose. “Okay, yes, um—well. I mean you have to know that we’re yours, right? When everything inevitably changes, that won’t.”

Nancy and Jonathan stare at Steve, watch his face light up in the moonlight. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah, okay?” Nancy repeats. She raises her foot and swipes at his chest. “Boo. We gave you all of that. Where is our romantic speech?”

“I gave you one earlier today! I’m in this car with you. I’m going to  _New Jersey_ for you. Is that not enough?”

“More than enough,” Jonathan says earnestly.

She sits up long enough to kiss Jonathan and Steve before snuggling back into them, switching sides—her head tucked into Steve’s side, her feet dangling off of Jonathan’s laps. They kiss above her, longer and softer.

After that, they fall into a nice sort of quiet. She doesn’t know how much longer they have, is honestly too afraid to ask. She’s mostly just grateful for this and the fact that Dustin, the poor soul driving and the only one who has to hear them, doesn’t say a thing.

.

.

.

She doesn’t understand how Dustin made it to New Jersey in nine hours.

It’s four in the morning when they start entering familiar streets, ones that Nancy can remember taking long walks on with Jonathan or jogging in the early morning.

She brandishes her fangs out, her jaw uncomfortably sore. It’s been ages since she’s done this. Steve has insisted they stop tearing their teeth into the animals in the woods because of the mess it creates and for some reason, they agreed. Really, the only time she’s used this is for —

Steve blatantly stares at her teeth and Nancy has to remind herself that now is a terrible time to be thinking about sex. “Jonathan, Jane, Will, and I will go in. The rest of you—”

“Are not fucking staying in,” Mike hisses. “Nancy! Are you serious!?”

“No shit I am! Three of us can do things that none of you can’t, and Will … is Will.”

“Great observation! No way, Holly, back me up—”

“Nancy, stop being such an older sister. I’m not going to die—”

“Why does that feel like a  _jab_ —”

Dustin actually  _honks_ , looking extremely annoyed as he glances over his shoulder. “Hey, idiots. Stop. Arguing. Why can’t you be like Will and Jonathan? I don’t think they’ve ever raised their voice at each other.”

“Once,” Jonathan says. “Will was standing on the table when he was four and I got scared he would fall.”

“Did I end up falling?”

Jonathan’s eyes crinkle with a smile. “Nope. I picked you up and flew you around because you wanted to be up in the sky.”

“You guys don’t seem real,” Holly says. “Mike has never held me.”

“Yes, I have!”

“Stop. Stop this. What did I just say!?” Dustin’s lisp thickens. “God, I love being an only child. Okay, listen! Listen. GPS says we’re ten minutes away from the house. So we need to go over our plan.”

Jane grips the back of her short, brown hair. “We ambush the house. There. We’ve gone over it.”

“Or Nancy and I go in first,” Jonathan says firmly.

“What!? That sounds like a terrible plan!”

“Which one of you fuckers just insulted him,” Nancy hisses. “Which. I am too tired to tell.”

“Because you are so fit to go into attack,” Max drawls. “Dude. We’ve got you.” She raises a gun, shaking it firmly to show Nancy. “We know what we’re doing.”

Dustin honks. “Everyone, shut up! Let’s think about this logically. I mean, we had a plan, right?”

“A plan that could end up with all of you dead,” Jonathan says. “I’m with Nancy. But no. We can’t bring Will and Jane in. Look, before all of you yell at me, who in this car has super-hearing and can speed in and out? We’ll get Murray and subdue Brenner and one of us will come back out and tell you to all to come in. This. Is. Safest.”

Steve rubs his hands over his face. “And if you don’t come back out? Then?”

“We will,” Nancy huffs. She reaches over Jonathan to cup Steve’s face and turns her head to look at all of kids. “We’re coming back.”

“I can help you,” Jane says.

“Unless you’re shot,” Nancy says. She winces at her tone, inching towards the edge of the seat. “Jane, I mean, look. We can be shot and we’ll heal. Can’t say the same for any of you and that is a risk we’re not taking. I’m not budging on this. Please understand.”

“Nancy, I don’t like this,” Holly says, chewing on her fingernails.

“Fine,” Mike announces loudly. He sits on his knees, shifting to meet Nancy’s eyes. “One condition: you have five minutes. Five minutes without a sound and we’re coming in.”

“And if we hear a scream, those five minutes are off,” Will says.

“You might hear a scream that’s not from us, though,” Jonathan says casually, tracing the black lines underneath his eyes.

There’s a collective  _oh, shit_ from the kids, everyone grinning at Jonathan. Nancy can’t help but smile.

“Jonathan, man, who knew you had it in you?” Mike says, pleased.

Max rises slightly out of her seat to bump Jonathan’s fist. Jonathan smiles, eyebrows pulled together in confusion, but bumps her fist back.

“I knew,” Will says proudly, while Lucas shouts from the front, “Jonathan’s always been cool, Mike, keep up!”

“That was pretty hot.” Steve’s eyes rake over Nancy and Jonathan.

“Relax, Steve,” Dustin says.

Jane cracks a knuckle and turns around to nod at them. “Be safe. Don’t be stupid.”

“We’re not—” Nancy and Jonathan start defensively.

“You are impulsive,” Jane says, eyeing Nancy. “And Jonathan will always follow your lead. Brenner’s not getting both of you too.”

“We’ll be fine. No one’s getting anyone.” Jonathan’s voice is so soothing that everyone’s heartbeats calm down, not quite steady, but not as erratic as before.

Steve grins. “Damn straight.”

Mike shifts until he’s squatting, rising as far as he can, until his head grazes the top of Dustin’s car. “Okay, we’re all good, right? Everyone has something on them? And, uh, we’re still okay with Steve having a gun? I don’t want him to end up hurting himself, that’s all.”

“Trust me man,” Lucas says, holding his gun with ease. “The amount of times Dustin and me took him to the range, he’s good. He’s great.”

“Better than you?” Max teases.

“Almost,” Lucas replies.

“And I am absolutely honoured by that.” Steve’s heart thumps, but he grins. He bounces his legs up and down, so Nancy presses her hand against his knee to calm him down.

“Be safe,” Will says. “And if you need to throw him off, say Portland.”

“You’re not going to expand on that?” Jane raises an eyebrow, gently footing his ankle.

Will makes a noise of consideration. “Is now really the time?”

“UH, YES!”

Will startles, blinking rapidly at the sound of everyone’s intermingled voices. “I lied about the South America thing. Kali … Kali and I found his lab. It’s—it’s where he was going to move us, it’s where all of his shit is, where he’s keeping the rest of his—you know—and um. I mean, probably where the cure is. We’re holding off because if we mess up, that’s it, we need more people, I needed you guys, you know, and if Brenner is  _right here,_  this is perfect!”

“Holy shit, are you—”

“What took you so fucking long to tell—”

“So you can come home? Seriously?”

“Wait, does that mean we need to go to fucking Portland—”

“IS NOW THE TIME!?” Steve barks, his eyes wide. “We’re literally two streets from Murray’s place, you guys! Just say you’re happy for Will!”

“Steve,” Dustin says. “Relax. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Are you serious, Will?” Jonathan asks quietly, his face lighting up. He glances at the distance separating him and Will as though he’s contemplating breaking the seats in front of them so he can pull Will into his arms.

He doesn’t, of course. His eyes just well up and he smiles, pressing his hands together. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to spring it on you. I mean, I haven’t seen you in years, and this looked like it would be hard and difficult, so to put that on you. But. Here we are. Steve, you might miss some school.”

“Tight,” Steve says. “And I’m glad this has worked out for you, man. You all deserve the world.”

“Steve, you’re not missing school,” Nancy says fondly, her grin so wide it hurts. “What? You deserve an education.” Hope flickers in her heart, a spark but powerful on its own. She beams at Jonathan, at Steve, at the kids.

“Hey, guys? I make a left here, right?”

Nancy tenses. She blinks the red into the eyes. Everything’s going to be fine. This is not where her story ends. “Yup.”

“Murray will be fine,” Jonathan says, looking at Nancy. He opens his mouth and grunts as his fangs extend in his mouth. “He told me once he refused to die until he won a game of poker with his werewolf buds.”

Nancy grins. “That means he’s never dying then.”

“Is this the house?” Dustin has pulled into the street far enough that they can see the house, but only by leaning towards the window and craning their heads to the side. The houses on either side of Murray’s house are vacant. No one would have heard him scream. No one would hear them scream, either.

“Yup,” Steve answers when all Nancy and Jonathan do is stare.

“Do you need me to drive closer? Can you tell how many people there are?”

Jonathan’s jaw clenches. “Just two. Brenner and Murray.”

“Then we can go in—”

“Mike,” Nancy says, “no. Trust me on this.”

“Five minutes,” Will reminds them. “Five minutes and we’re barging in.”

She nods. At the sound of  _their_  heartbeats, she adds, “We’re going to be okay.” She frowns at the look on Jonathan’s face, tilting his chin down. “Hey, hey. We are. We’ve dealt with worse things before.”

“Right,” he says, smiling wetly. “The werewolf in Maine, right?”

“Right.” Flashes of seventeen, the first time around, pull her out of this moment. Slicing palms with Jonathan. How dark the woods were, until they spotted red eyes, the light charging right towards them. How tightly Jonathan’s back pressed against hers as they fired blindly, Jonathan with a stake, Nancy with a gun. How it didn’t matter anyway because they were children up against death, but they went out fighting, for answers, for love.

They will not go out again. They’re not quite children, not quite adults, but now they’re stronger, angrier, and vampires. Though that won’t last for much longer.

Jane hops out of the car quietly. She pulls her chair forward so Nancy and Jonathan can get through.

The moment they both step up, Steve grabs their wrists. “Hey. I’m not going to say it now, because it’ll sound like a goodbye, which this isn’t, but … but come back so I can say it, yeah?” His eyes are wide but hopeful.

Jonathan’s eyes glisten with tears. He lifts Steve’s hand and kisses his palm. “This is me not saying it.”

Steve laughs wetly, holding so tightly onto their hands that Nancy’s afraid, but mostly not, that he won’t let go.

“Don’t say that. We’re coming back.” Nancy leans forward and rests her forehead against his briefly. “This is me not saying it too.” She clears her throat and looks at all of the kids, doing her best to ignore how petrified they all look. Her eyes linger on Holly and Mike. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“We love you,” Jonathan adds, locking eyes with Will before looking at each kid individually. His eyes crinkle with a small smile as he looks at Jane. “We promise not to be stupid.”

Everyone laughs.

“Sounds unlikely.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“That’s like, you guys not being yourselves.”

“You’re the smartest people I know, but also, sometimes, in times like these, not.”

“Is this what you guys tell each other right before you do somethings stupid?”

“Shut the fuck up, Mike,” Nancy says through a surprised laugh. “And thank you for not insulting me, Holly. Everyone else, you’re all assholes, but. But I love you.” She rips her gaze away and forces herself to turn away from the car. If she didn’t do it then, she would look at them forever.

Jonathan’s hand slips into hers as they walk off, slowly and together. “Seriously though. Promise me you won’t do something stupid.”

“I promise.” Nancy squeezes his hand as a pit of dread forms in her stomach. “You too.”

“Promise.” Jonathan’s eyes darken and turn red, mouth shifting as he extends his fangs. “Say something if he tries anything and I’ll be there in a second. I’ll do the same, just in case. Get him talking, get him comfortable. It’ll only take me a couple of minutes.”

She nods as they step onto the sidewalk, walking closer to the house with a surprising amount of ease. But it kind of makes sense. She’s done this before, knows very well that walking into the dark is a little easier when you’re doing it for the people in the light. “I’ll get him.”

Jonathan’s eyes light up. “Yeah, you will. I love you.”

Warmth floods her chest. It’s also easier with him by her side. “I love you too.” She squeezes his hand again and feels his scar against hers. “I’ll see you soon. A few minutes and we’ve got our lives back.”

And then they’re off.

 

 

 

She shouldn’t be surprised, but it deeply unsettles her that Brenner is standing in what used to be her and Jonathan’s room.

Murray hasn’t changed a thing. Not the dull grey of the walls. Not even the floral bed sheets Nancy found at a flea market in Ohio after she and Jonathan had to kill a three-headed monster terrorizing the parking lot, of all places. Everything is almost exactly as it was the last time they were here, just last month. Well. Almost everything.

Brenner stares out the window, his heartbeat so quiet and calm it’s almost still. He has his hands shoved into his pockets. He whistles under his breath. “I have a hard time believing that Murray did all of this.” Lower lip curled disdainfully, he gestures to the array of flowers in the garden that are faintly visible by the moonlight through the window. “It’s too nice of a garden.”

He turns around. Nancy hadn’t planned on restraining him, opting for keeping him calm and waiting for Jonathan to finish with Brenner to spring an attack, but the sight of his small, coy smile makes her lose it.

Barb, Jane, Will, Kali, herself and Jonathan—all of their lives damn near ruined because of him.

She’s been waiting a long time for this.

She charges forward. In the blink of an eye, she invades his space and lunges for him. She squeezes his throat and yanks him up in the air, shaking him a little to make him kick the air desperately.

It doesn’t work.

If anything, it causes his lips to quirk into an amused smile. But that’s it. His heartbeat doesn’t even change.

She squeezes harder, and he gasps out a breath, but laughs with it too. Like Nancy’s just cracked a joke.

She doesn’t get it. He has no weapons on him. The only people in this house are him and Murray.

There is  _no_ reason for him to be so calm.

The dark lines underneath her eyes darken, thickening as she bares her fangs. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”

Brenner’s jaw twitches. “If you wanted me dead, I would be dead by now. Did you bring them both?”

Nancy falters at the mention of Jonathan and Will.  “Doesn’t matter anyway.” She straightens her back, chin tilting to meet Brenner’s eyes. A long claw scrapes the back of his neck. She can’t help her pleased smirk when he jerks suddenly in her grasp. “You should’ve brought backup.”

He cants his head to the side. His white hair flops slightly. It’s bizzare to think that in another world, a world where he didn’t play God with all of their lives, Nancy would be the thirteen years younger than him that she was supposed to be in this one. “You don’t think I know what I’m doing?”

“What  _are_ you doing? You draw us out to New Jersey, know that we’ll bring our people with us, and then it’s just you in this house?”

He only chuckles, so she growls and slams him against the wall, relishing in the reverberating thud. “Answer. Me.”

His smile freezes. His eyes widen with curiosity. “You know, Miss Wheeler, I’ve never seen eyes as red as yours.”

She slaps his hand away before he can touch her face. “Do not.” Her voice breaks, a lump blocking her throat. “You got my best friend killed.”

“I didn’t kill her.”

“You let out the monsters that did.”

“My sincerest condolences.”

“You  _tortured_ El.”

“How is she doing? I’ve always regretted not sending a letter, but my priorities have shifted ever since I found Mr. Byers—”

“Do not talk about Will!”

Brenner raises an eyebrow, aiming for calm and collected, but she notices the bead of sweat forming on his forehead. The uptick in his heartbeat. The way he keeps glancing at the door, like he’s waiting.

 _No one’s coming for you,_ she wants to say.  _No one but us._

“He’s a good brother. Extremely loyal.”

“I may not kill you,” she says slowly, more as a reminder to herself. She needs him alive for Will and Kali—this is what they’ve been fighting and working towards for years, more their fight than hers. “But don’t think I won’t hurt you.” Her nails dig into his neck hard enough that she draws blood.

He writhes in her grasp. Finally starts kicking the air. Finally breaks into a sweat. Finally, finally, looks fucking terrified, the way he should. “Aren’t you—aren’t you wondering what’s taking your boyfriend so long?”

“He’s probably fixing all the damage you did to Murray,” she spits. “I don’t understand what game you’re playing at here, but if you wanted to die a slow death and lose everything you’ve built in the past three decades, I mean. All you had to do was ask.”

“I like you, Miss Wheeler. You’ve got a lot of life in you.”

“Is that supposed to be some fucking joke?”

“I admire your boyfriend, I do, but he’s not as fun as you. More stoic, less threatening, definitely less talkative. And the other Byers, well, he’s strong, I’ll give him that—”

“God, stop talking, I’ll rip your—”

But Brenner continues, rattles on, his voice casual. “But he’s too  _good,_ you know? I mean, I give him an out, a real chance at life, to be with his mom and those precious friends of his, and he turns it down to protect a brother he hadn’t seen in years? A girl, who what, has slammed doors in front of his face more times than she’s spoken to him?”

“I—what? What’re you talking about?” Her grip loosens. Strangely, her arm strains from keeping his weight off the floor, but she doesn’t let him go, doesn’t let his feet touch the floor again. She presses him harder against the wall.

Brenner chokes out a breath. He sighs, almost like he’s disappointed. “Of course he didn’t say anything. Too noble for his own good. Think about it, Miss Wheeler. What good would William Byers  _really_ be after I turned him back? Nothing left for me to experiment on, not a weapon that I can use, a liability, sure, but … but why would I go after such great lengths to find him?”

A speck of blue rushes back to Nancy’s eyes. Her mouth falls open. “For us. You wanted him, because you wanted us. You knew, then? That Jonathan and I were—that we’re—”

He frowns, but his eyes are still smiling. “Thirty-eight years now and you can’t say what you are? How unfortunate. But yes, while I didn’t know, I had my suspicions. My two vampires turned up dead, and immediately after, Barbara Holland’s best friend and Will Byers’ older brother leave town at the same time? I didn’t and still don’t believe in coincidences. Very easy to put the pieces together. I knew you were with Murray, but I have no idea how that man made it so difficult to find you two, because I never could. But I’d seen how hard Mrs. Byers fought for her son. There was no way you weren’t in contact with her. All Will would’ve had to do was reunite with her, get out where you and his brother were, and I would’ve left him alone. Given him his life back. But no. He wanted both of you safe.”

All this time, Will knew. All this time, he could’ve gone home to Joyce, to Mike and the rest of the kids.

All this time, and he didn’t, for the chance of keeping Jonathan and Nancy out of Brenner’s hands and safe.

“If you figured that Joyce was in contact with us, why not follow her?” Nancy’s slipping. Her voice shakes, the red in her eyes lighten, beginning to fade, and the anger in her starts to hollow out. All she can think about is  _Will_ and how he really is Jonathan’s brother. She’s already loved Will out of principle; Jonathan loved him, so of course she would automatically love whatever and whoever he did too. But this, even the past day with him, leaves her in even more awe.

The Byers really are something else.

Brenner snorts. “You saw how persistent she was when her son went missing. If she weren’t distracted with her other son’s leaving town, then she and Hopper would’ve figured it out. Not worth the risk.”

She’ll give Brenner this. That at least he recognizes the horrifying strength and power that is Joyce Byers.

She shakes her head to force the red back in her eyes. Her fangs glint underneath the flickering light-bulb. “Doesn’t matter anyway. The end of you will be at the hands of the Byers, of Kali, of us. I’m done listening to your stupid fucking villain-monologue.” She grabs his tie and yanks him forward. “I’m sure Jonathan and Murray would love to see you like this. Let’s go.”

She drags him out the room. He doesn’t resist. Once they start their descent down the stairs, at regular speed because Nancy wants to remember this feeling, he tuts. “I’m sorry to cut your moment of victory short, Miss Wheeler, but before you see your boyfriend, you should know that you really shouldn’t have left them alone outside.”

Nancy whirls around. Her face falls. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m not falling for that, you decrepit fucker, stop wasting my  _time._ ” Glaring, she grabs a handful of Brenner’s shirt and thinks,  _fuck it,_ as she speeds into Murray’s basement.

Jonathan, forcing Murray to take the rest of his blood, helping him up and reassuring him that everything is fine—that’s what she expects to see. That’s what she was supposed to see.

Before she even sees the basement, before she can realize what exactly is wrong, she already knows.

By the time she speeds down the last step of the stairwell, she hears them now. The extra heartbeats. The heartbeats she and Jonathan missed.

Of course Brenner wouldn’t come without backup. Of course it wouldn’t just be him and Murray in this house.

 _It’s a soundproof basement._ Stupid, so fucking stupid, they should’ve realized.  _She_ should’ve realized this before walking into the lion’s den.

For the second time in her life, she walks right into death. Turning back isn’t an option. She won’t consider it. Murray’s still here. And Jonathan is her person. They’ve done all of this—the scary, the heartbreaking, the horrifying shit—together. They turned into and survived being vampires together.

They can do this together too.

As long as everyone else is safe, she repeats to herself, stepping forward and into the light, the unknown. As long as Steve and Holly and Karen are all safe, she prays, clutching Brenner to her chest.

Fangs out, red eyes shining, and hands wrapped around Brenner’s throat, ready to snap, she faces the disaster waiting for her.

Probably a dozen guns instantly raise, half aimed at her chest, the other half at her brain. But she’s too distracted by Jonathan to count exactly how many.

He’s not dead. This much she can tell. He’s sprawled across the floor, his hair sticking to his forehead. Though his neck has been snapped, disfigured horribly that Nancy has to bite down the wail clogging her throat, and a stake is lodged a purposeful inch underneath his heart, he’s alive.

Twelve guns on her and a murderer in her hands, Nancy almost lunges to the nearest pulse and just. Bites. Breaks. Murders. Paints Murray’s white basement red.

Rationality and humanity flew out the window the  _second_ someone laid a hand on Jonathan.

But a hand clenches the stake underneath Jonathan’s heart and Nancy stills. She swallows and forces herself to look around.

She used to think Murray’s basement, the space he would use for interrogations and for murder boards with his larger and longer cases, was huge. She swore it was six times the size of her own room.

Now, with every table, chair, and board cleared, the walls lined up with men and women she’s never seen before, all in black, their heartbeats thumping with fear, yet firmly holding a stake in one hand, a gun in the other, it seems small.

Suffocatingly so.

A muffled shout grabs her attention. Nancy stifles a gasp as Murray rattles uselessly on the chains binding his wrist in the corner of the basement. His wide eyes plead with her, telling her to  _run_ the same way she knows his mouth would if it weren’t for the gag.

The man on his left kicks Murray. Murray doubles over, looking more pissed off than in pain as he growls.

“What have you been doing to him? What did you do!?” There’s a dull ache in her chest where she knows her heartbeat should be pounding. Her vision clouds. She can’t see anything except for the brown of the stakes all pointing at her, the stake plunged in Jonathan’s chest, the red staining Murray’s shirt. She can’t feel anything, except for Brenner’s cold neck from between her hands. She can’t hear anything, except Brenner’s goddamn heart, too calm considering Nancy is choking the living hell out of him.

“Miss—Miss Wheeler—if you want your family, your friends safe, it’s in your best interest to just—let me go and we can—”

“Liar!” Nancy barks. No one has shot at her or tried to stake her, but her chest  _burns,_ the exact same spot where Jonathan’s been staked. How could she let this happen? How could she let him get hurt? How could she put everyone she’s loved in danger, the very thing she tried to avoid by leaving Hawkins in the first place?

How did it get this far?

Brenner heaves out a breath. He violently waves his hand and all of the guns and stakes on her lower instantly. “I don’t break my promises.”

“I don’t  _believe you!_ You killed my best friend, you tortured Will, you kidnapped the closest thing I had to my father, you hurt the love of my life, why— _why should I believe you?_ ” She’s not crying. She refuses to cry.

Nancy has killed. She’s a vampire. A weapon.

But she’s also just seventeen.

Too tired to be angry, too tired to be anything really, when Brenner tugs her hands away from his neck, she doesn’t resist. There’s no point. She knows how this ends, now. If she slashes Brenner’s throat, there goes any chances of Will and Kali finding and destroying more of his labs. Jonathan will be killed, maybe the kids too if he, and he probably does, has people watching them.

Jonathan and Murray’s lives are in Brenner’s hands, even if Brenner’s life is in hers. It’s not a question. But even if it was, when it comes to Jonathan and Murray, the answer is simple.

She lets the blue rush back into her eyes. Retracts her fangs, rids her face of the black lines.

Tears rush down her face. She catches sight of one of Brenner’s people, a woman whose mouth twitches, on the verge of a frown. Surely they weren’t expecting Brenner’s targets to be this weepy.

“There, there,” Brenner murmurs. He gently touches the back of her head and tips her chin up. “You’re making the smart choice here, Miss Wheeler. I’m assuming you want everyone in that van safe?”

Nancy fights the urge to bite his hand off. Instead, she nods shakily and conjures up the images of Mike in his Batman shirt, of Holly making silly faces at Callie, of Jonathan holding Will tightly in his arms for the first time in years, of Karen and Joyce pouring each other glasses of wine, of the kids laid out and laughing in Mike’s living room, of Steve, moments ago, his hand warm in hers. It comes rushing at her and it’s how she manages to get the next few words out without breaking her voice and breaking the bones of every single one of these monsters in this room. “You leave them alone. You leave Murray alone too.  _And_ you leave Jonathan. Those are my conditions.”

Nancy raises her chin and stares Brenner straight in the eye. She doesn’t miss his people advancing behind her, doesn’t bat an eye at the stake positioned behind her back.

She hears footsteps, then, from the crack she left open on her way downstairs. There’s hushed whispering. Light footsteps approaching the front door. Dustin’s lisp as he counts down from three. The brandishing of guns.

Their five minutes must be up.

Brenner doesn’t hear this, of course. Just smiles pityingly at Nancy’s request. “I admire your confidence, but I’ve been looking for you  _and_ him for some time now. I’m taking what I came here for. But I can guarantee you the rest. I look forward to working with you.”

“Fuck y—”

Footsteps thud from upstairs.

Brenner’s eyes light up. “There they are. What a shame. You know we’ll have to subdue them first, right? No one will get killed, I promise, but I cannot promise no injuries.” At her enraged look and sudden red eyes, he adds with a shrug, “What can I say? I told you.” Slower, like he knows these words will haunt her, he adds, “ _You should’ve brought them with you._ ”

Brenner’s smile and Mike’s distant, whisper-shout, “They’re downstairs!” are the last thing Nancy will remember. Something cold and hard rips into her back. For a fleeting moment, it feels like nothing; until the very second that Nancy registers it as a stake, just grazing her heart.

But she’s done this before, hasn’t she?

Just like in 1983, for the second time, Nancy goes down for love. Though this time, she’s not getting back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writer's block is a bitch, but SO AM I.
> 
> hey there! SO sorry for going MIA for a sec there. i was really struggling with this chapter and school got hectic, so i just took a break from tumblr and ao3 to Get It Together. here i am! this chapter hit me over the head with writer's block. it was so difficult to write, especially when they reached murray's house, but hey, it's here now. i _think_ it's over now, but honestly, i knew this chapter would be the hardest for me, so now that's out of the way, i'm feeling good folks!!!! 
> 
> (also, i'm just saying, my energy to finish the last 1/4 of this chapter came back as soon as THAT jancy still dropped for s3. while ik s3 will lack in stoncy, i'm SO excited to see nancy and jonathan's mulder and scully adventures and to see them w/ the kids!!! what're your guys thoughts on what we've seen of s3 so far?)
> 
> as for the ending of this chapter, remember this is angst with a happy ending. it'll make their ending all the more good. this one gave me so many feelings re: the kids, nancy and jon with the kids, and ofc, stoncy. *-* also, can you tell that i really enjoy writing steve with the "kids"? 
> 
> getting closer and closer to the end! comments are greatly appreciated, especially since i'm a wee bit insecure about this chapter. come say hi on tumblr, at trulyalpha!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> possible triggers in this chapter. as implied by last chapter, there is captivity, but also starvation and death (by fire and assumed to be cyanide) that is not described, but is brutal on its own. please message me or comment if you have any questions. i can really easily tell you what to skip and/or describe what happened. nothing is graphic, and nancy bears no witness to either events.
> 
> also apologies for typos -- THE RAPTORS WON TONIGHT, I'M FREAKING OUT, and i'm too excited about it and this chapter to wait until tomorrow.

Nancy’s never had a nightmare about when she and Jonathan were killed, because in a weird way, it was almost comforting to know that it was the worst moment of her life. That no matter what came next, it would never be as terrible as this.

It’s sort of a miracle that the plan worked. Stake out in the woods exactly a week after Will went missing. Slice their palms open to draw them in with their blood. And wait.

“Are we absolutely idiotic for thinking that this would work?” Nancy had asked, slumped against a tree. She rubbed her eyes furiously and squeezed the stake, the actual, literal  _stake_ she had in her other hand, not knowing how she ended up here when a week ago, she was at the library, threatening to throw a pen at Barb for getting distracted and not doing homework. (She gave in when Barb drew her a flower with the words  _there’s more to life than school, Nancy_ and a bunch of black hearts around it. She spent forty-five minutes this morning looking for the drawing. She still couldn’t find it. She was starting to think she never would.)

Now, she was—what,  _vampire_ hunting? Based off the minimal leads that they had? This could be something else entirely. Another type of monster. Or a human being, kidnapping children and teens for fun.

And she and Jonathan were just in over their heads.

“You’re nervous,” Jonathan said. He turned his flashlight on and waved it in front of her.

Nancy didn’t bother denying it. It had been less than a week since she and Jonathan started talking and planning, their lives rapidly tangled up in bear-traps and missing people and soft hand-touches. It had been less than a week that she felt like she saw Jonathan and  _really_ saw him. Past the loner act, past the creep everyone took him for. She found a big brother with warm hands and an even warmer heart who was willing to possibly die for his brother and to do so with her.

He believed her. He listened to her talk about stakes and the  _what ifs._ He didn’t laugh when she first said vampires. She could be honest with him. “Yeah, I am. You’re not?”

He shrugged. “I’m horrified. But it’s worth it. It will be, anyways.”

 _If it works,_ Nancy nearly said. But that wasn’t how either of them should go into this and she didn’t want to scare him. Instead, she pushed herself off of the tree and crossed the space between them. Just a few footsteps, really, but it felt like a continent.

She lowered her bleeding hand to touch the gun in Jonathan’s hands. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Oh God no, please take it,  _please._ You just let me take the gun earlier, so I figured—”

“Hey, it’s fine. I’ve got it.” They swapped; she passed him the stake, he passed her the gun.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You do.”

She looked up, her heart pounding in her chest. She could faintly make out his face from the moonlight, the flashlight clicked off. He usually looked exhausted, but not so much with his small, embarrassed smile. It was the first time she noticed, really noticed, the way his eyes crinkled.

“We’re going to get them back,” she said softly. “We’ll find out what happened and go from there, but it’s going to work, Jonathan.”

“I know. I’m really—I’m really glad to be by your side. Not only because you know what you’re doing with that gun, and I don’t say that lightly, you seriously—”

Nancy grinned. She shoved his arm gently. “Get to it.”

“Yeah, right,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, smiling. “But because you’ve just—you’ve made everything about this easier. You’re ... you’re  _cool,_ you know?”

“I’m cool?”

Jonathan ducked his head. “Yeah, you’re cool, for a lack of a better word.”

Nancy suppressed a grin, absentmindedly reaching back to touch her ponytail. “You’re cool, too.”

“You are  _not_ a good liar,” he teased.

“I’m not—” She froze. Clutched his arm and held him still. “Don’t. Move.”

His eyes widened in confusion, but he remained in place, raising his stake.

Nancy whirled around. She scanned the forest and pressed her back against Jonathan, the two circling slowly. It wasn’t a large forest. She saw something red light up, she would  _have_ to see it again, she would have to—

“Jonathan!” She screamed when she saw it again, two circles of red beginning to charge towards them. She shot blindly and Jonathan ran forward. It happened all too quickly, because what are two kids up against two immortal beings that have  _super speed,_ that have spent years in another world with monsters and death?

The last thing Nancy remembered as she hit the ground, her head throbbing and gun thrown across the woods, was the sight of Barb’s head. She thought she was hallucinating, but as she groggily reached forward to touch the familiar red hair, she knew. She just knew.

Everything afterwards was a blur of bites and blood and screaming. It wouldn’t sink in until, instead of dragging and having to lug two bodies with them, they somehow were able to carry them with ease, back to Jonathan’s house. Nancy realized she wasn’t breathing halfway through. Jonathan tried searching for her pulse, then his, both frantic and freaking out but  _not breathing,_ until Nancy reasoned that stopping in the middle of the road, even at four in the morning, with two bodies was a terrible idea.

“Worse than the one we just had,” she grumbled.

Jonathan barked out a laugh as he swung his dead vampire over his back. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“It was,” she agreed, before laughing. “But I’d rather laugh about it then think about—think about all this means.”

“Nancy, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t. I just mean that. We’re both in pretty shitty boats right now. We’re not breathing. They fucking  _bit_ us. I’m against jumping to conclusions, but this doesn’t seem like a jump, does it?”

“No. It doesn’t. Look, I get it if you don’t want to talk to me after this—”

“Jonathan—”

“I’m so sorry about Barb, I cannot imagine what you’re going through, so don’t worry about—”

“What about Will, he could still be out there, you’re also—”

“But I’m here, and I don’t, I don’t know what comes next—”

“Jonathan! Shut up!” She dropped the body once more, forgetting all about the blood soaking her clothes and sink, how she kept trying to breathe despite not needing to, how it all resulted in forceful raising and lowering of her chest, how  _eery_ her lack of heartbeat was. Forgetting about Barb, who a week ago, was  _here,_ goddammit, breathing and not dead.

Two things that now didn’t apply to either of them. The thought nearly made Nancy throw up.

“We are in this together, do you understand?” She waved her palm in front of his face, pointing at the jagged cut that already healed but hadn’t faded. “You and me. I’m not leaving you. I’ve got you, and you’ve got me, and we’re going to make it work.”

He smiled at her, just barely.

She would never be able to remember who leaned in for the hug first. Just that her chest was suddenly buried in his chest and that his arms fit around her waist perfectly. There were two bodies by their feet and anyone could have driven past them (not that that ended up happening), but she needed this. They both did.

Nancy told herself, as they dragged two bodies to Jonathan’s house, preparing to tell Joyce everything and going over what to say, that at least it couldn’t get any worse.

There would never be anything worse than that night.

 

A little over thirty-seven years later, she wished that held up.

.

.

.

The first thing she notices as she wakes up is the scent of blood.

The second thing she notices is that it’s all hers.

The third thing is that  _Jonathan is not here._

Nancy tries standing up, only to cry out in pain. She looks down at the throbbing in her chest to find the stake still grazing her heart. She’s never been staked before, but she has asked Murray about a million questions that both annoyed and impressed him.

She had asked him what happens if a stake is lodged in your chest, but misses your heart. It dumbfounded him. He lowered his glasses, rubbed his temples, and let out a soft, “ _Oh._ ” He came back to her a week later after asking people he knew, vampires he was friends with.

“It’s the closest thing to death without you actually dying. You’ll be okay, but just that. No super strength. No super-hearing. Nothing. It’s terrible, burning pain, but you won’t die and you can heal, only when the stake’s removed.”

“Great,” she replied. “Let me just write that down.” She had a notebook filled with information she thought was useful, not all of it pertaining to herself but other monsters too. She left it at Murray’s. It was in her nightstand, the second drawer.

Murray’s house. Murray.  _Jonathan._

Nancy looks away from the stake and the dark blood staining her shirt and pooling on the floor. It’s plucked right out of a typical flick; grey walls, no window save for the one on the single, white door. That’s it. The door is probably locked, but even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. As Nancy cranes her head and bangs her fists against the pole she’s propped up against, she realizes that she’s handcuffed.

A stupid fucking pair of handcuffs that she can’t get out of because of the stupid fucking  _stake_ in her chest.

It’s only been a few minutes since Nancy has regained consciousness, but she cannot stand it. It is completely quiet. She’s all alone. For the first time in thirty-eight years, Jonathan isn’t next to her. She can’t hear anything. She can’t even listen in on anyone’s breathing.

It’s always bothered her, like a scratch you can’t itch, not to hear her own breathing. But she’s always had someone, Murray, Steve, the kids, her mom, Joyce, to listen in on instead.

Now, all she hears is her lack of heartbeat.

She yanks as hard as she can on the handcuffs, but nothing. The stake is now a dull pain in her chest. But everything else  _aches._ It’s like every bone in her body is broken. Her skin is cold and pale. She tries turning her eyes red, tries getting her fangs out, but to no avail.

Her head pounds. She wants to turn it off. Every horrible image of Jonathan bleeding and sobbing, of Steve and the kids wounded, of her mother and Joyce, worrying, floods her mind. It’s a nightmare she can’t wake up from.

But she can’t.

Nancy screams. It’s a broken, low, and scratchy sound. She does it again. And again. And again.

It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t help. It mostly just hurts her throat, but she keeps doing it anyway.

.

.

.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed but Jonathan’s absence starts to sink in.

Every situation she’s been in like this, she had him with her. She feels kind of ridiculous for it, that she  _needs_ him, but goddammit, he needs her too, and she’s not going to feel bad for it.

A camera blinks in the top corner of the room. She hadn’t noticed it at first, too delirious and weak.

The second she does, she yells. “Hey, asamples! I know you’re listening.  _Give me my fucking boyfriend!”_

Maybe she spends minutes screaming. Maybe it’s hours.

It feels like a few years when the door finally opens and someone who can’t be more than twenty-five is pushing Jonathan on, a trembling hand on the stake lodged in Jonathan’s chest.

The kid, because that’s really what he is, is horrified. His white shirt has a salsa stain on it and his trousers are slightly too big on him. He’s sweating, heart pounding erratically, as he pushes Jonathan forward.

Jonathan thrashes wildly. Specks of red dot his brown eyes. “I won’t hurt you if you just let—Nancy?”

With a newfound energy, Nancy raises her head and straightens against the pole. Everything in her mind quiets. “Jonathan!”

Her eyes must flash because the kid nearly jumps back when she screams, “What did you  _do_ to him?”

“I didn’t do anything! I swear!”

Jonathan’s entire shirt is ruined with his blood. His face is a sickly-looking green and he looks more tired than usual. “But you can help us.  _Please._ ”

“I can’t,” the kid bites out, pushing Jonathan further into the room. He looks behind him, eyes wide, and turns back to look at them.

“What does he have on you?” Nancy asks quietly. “We can help.”

“No, you can’t,” the kid nearly shouts. “Please stop. I’m sorry, okay? I really am. But, and no offence, look at what happened when you tried taking him down. You’re in his territory now. It’s too late.”

Nancy licks her dry lips. She can’t afford to believe his words even if he believes himself. Hope is all she has left; she refuses to let go of it.

Jonathan doesn’t wait to be pushed next to Nancy. He lowers himself and grunts when he sinks to the floor. “Are you okay?”

They both lean their foreheads against each other as the kid adjusts Jonathan’s handcuffs to the pole. Nancy lets out a sigh of relief at the contact, melting into Jonathan. “Better now. How about you? How does it feel?”

“It’s not what I imagined. It’s kind of gone on for long enough it doesn’t hurt as much, but I can’t— I can barely feel my legs.”

“Can you feel your mouth?”

“I dunno, I can’t really—”

Very gently, she brushes her mouth against his. “Can you tell now?”

She feels his smile spread across his mouth. “Yeah. I can feel it fine. Maybe I should check again, though?”

“Aww.”

Nancy pulls away from Jonathan to weakly glare at the kid as he tugs experimentally on Jonathan’s handcuffs. “Seriously?”

He flinches. As if Nancy could do anything in her state. “I’m sorry, but you’re really cute! You were both screaming at the cameras to be brought to each other. At one point, you said your names at the same time, and it was kind of sweet.”

“How adorable,” Nancy says dryly.

He falters, mouth curving into a frown. “I really am sorry. I wish—I  _want_ to help you. But I’m not that brave. He would kill me. I’ve got people to take care of, you know?”

Her mouth turns dry. “I get it.”

“Can you at least tell us anything about where we are, what he plans on doing?” Jonathan asks softly.

He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. “He wants to stay here for a week and then, off to his Lab Lab.”

It’s possible Nancy misheard him. Her ears are ringing from all the screaming and everything  _hurts._ “Did you say lab lab?”

His cheeks pink as he scratches the back of his head, staring at a scuff mark Nancy’s shoe left on the floor. “Yeah? It’s what we call his  _main_ lab. None of us know where it is. But uh. He doesn’t plan on keeping you there for long.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jonathan asks.

He swallows. “Please, I’m not supposed to—”

“I get it,” Nancy interrupts. She winces at the burn in her throat but carries on anyway, forcing her head up to meet the kid’s eyes. “I do, okay? But I’m not supposed to still look like this and here I am. We’ve had so many things taken from us and I don’t—I don’t know your life. I don’t want to act like we have it worse, because maybe we don’t. But I’m sorry for whatever you’ve had to do for him. I’m sorry for whatever he’s taken. We won’t ask you for anything else after this. I promise. Just help us.”

Jonathan’s arm presses against hers. She doesn’t know if it’s meant to comfort her, but it does.

“Please,” he adds, his voice breaking. “We don’t hurt people. The only person we would ever hurt is him. We won’t rat you out. You can trust us.”

“Goddammit,” the kid cries out. He squats until he’s eye-level from Nancy and Jonathan, a near foot away from them both. “ _He wants to send you two to_ that  _dimension_.”

It’s like the stake has been plunged into her chest again. She grows dizzy, like the floor is spinning from beneath her. The handcuffs become tighter on her wrists, dig in harsher, leave red marks on her clammy, dry skin.

The Upside Down. That’s what he’s talking about.

She doesn’t know much about that place, but she doesn’t have to. A dimension full of monsters, of creatures that she could never fathom. She’s dealt with monsters, but  _one at a time._ But now, with the same kind of monsters who  _killed_ Barb, except all at once, for days on end, what, how _—_

“Why?” Jonathan croaks out. He and Nancy look at each other at the same time, their mouths agape in horror.

“That’s all I can say. I’m sorry.” He does look apologetic, eyebrows creased as he steps back. He shuts the door behind him and doesn’t look back.

The lock on the other side clicks faintly.

Nancy slumps against the pole. It digs painfully into her spine, but it doesn’t match the pain of a stake barely an inch away from her heart and the knowledge of their fate.

“Nancy.”

She doesn’t look at him. She can’t. “I’m so sorry, Jonathan, I should’ve—been faster, God, less cocky, I can’t—I’m—”

“Nancy.”

“—they  _hurt_ you, they hurt Murray, they hurt—Mike, Will, Steve, the kids, I’m—I should’ve done better, I can’t—it happened  _again,_ I was too slow, I—”

“Nancy.”

Nancy’s eyes burn with tears. She tilts her head to look at Jonathan, throat constricting at the tears in his eyes too. “I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice hoarse. She touches her forehead to his. She  _needs_ her hands on his, her chest against his, needs him closer, needs so many things, but needs this most.

But this one touch is all they have.

He screws his eyes shut, looking as pained by how they can’t comfort each other as she is. “Don’t. Don’t do that, okay? If anything, it’s my fault.”

“No, it isn’t, how can you think—”

His lips spread into a small smile. “See?”

She rolls her eyes and presses a soft kiss to his eyelid. “It’s hard not to go there,” she admits. The lights in the room flicker. She catches the red light of the camera and lowers her voice. “I’ve always felt like I could’ve done something about Barb. We were so close, you know? But I could live with it, right, but now … everything is ruined. We’ve lost everything we’ve built since last summer. We were so close to getting it all back.”

“We will.”

She laughs despite herself. “How? This is it. I don’t see an out.”

“We don’t have another choice.” Jonathan opens his eyes and stares into hers. His gaze sets her at ease instantly, quieting the noise in her mind and steadying the floor beneath her. “We’ve got to have hope. Remember what Will said?”

 _Portland._ The lab lab. That would be the kids’ next stop.

Nancy nods. She almost forgot about what Will said right before they went into the house. “And there’s another thing.”

“What?” He wrinkles his nose slightly, head tilted to the side in confusion. His hair sticks out in every direction, his shirt and scent is covered in dry blood, and his skin has turned greenish.

The sight makes her mouth twitch into a grin. It hurts to do it, but everything hurts, so she just kisses him anyway. “We’ve got each other. We’re a good team. Always have been.”

“Together,” Jonathan says, like he’s sounding the word out. “If I wasn’t sure we’d be okay before, I am now.”

Nancy honest to God  _giggles,_ ducking her head. “I hate you. How dare you make me laugh while we’re chained up in the most cliched place possible, a windowless grey room with a camera in the corner? As we wait for our certain deaths? Kidnapped by the guy who killed my best friend, technically killed yours,  _and_ kidnapped Murray?”

“He probably hurt our family too,” Jonathan adds, smiling. “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t be.” When Jonathan presses his mouth to her forehead, Nancy can forget about the stake in her chest, about the worry for Steve and the kids.

She doesn’t forget  _about_ them, of course. She thinks of Steve’s warm hand in hers as he didn’t but did say he loved them.

She should’ve just said it.

Pressing her nose against Jonathan’s, she tells herself it’s okay. She’ll get the chance to.

She meant what she said.

She and Jonathan are coming back. Whatever it takes.

.

.

.

Nancy has always had a tenuous relationship with time.

The last thirty-eight years has simultaneously felt like a blur and a couple of lifetimes, but that’s not really what she means. It’s more of a visceral feeling towards the concept.

She was promised a future, a tomorrow. She got it. She got many tomorrows, more than she could count, at the cost of her future. It’s ironic, isn’t it?

Bullshit is the word she would use.

But this wasn’t a monster she could fight. This was herself. And, weirdly enough, she never blamed herself for her own vampirism. She took the rage out before she even fully comprehended that she  _was_ a vampire by killing the ones who turned her and took Barbara. That was the most she could do then.

The moment she learned about the cure, time felt like it had before she died. She  _had_ a human life these past few months. Less monsters, more family dinners. More of the little things, like Lucas’ mac ‘n cheese. Steve’s denim jacket two sizes too big on her. Jane’s tight, warm hugs. Things like that.

Time finally felt like time again. Nancy wasn’t mad at it, not anymore.

Until now. Back where she started.

Every second bleeds together. Neither she nor Jonathan have enough energy in them to keep track, so they don’t bother. They could be in that room for days, weeks, months.

She’s got no fucking clue.

They never see that kid again. Sporadically, someone, a different person each time, will come in with two bowls of blood.

The first person that brings them blood sets the bowls by their feet Nancy’s glare. “How am I supposed to drink that?” She pointedly yanks on the handcuffs and doesn’t wince as much as she wants to at the wave of hurt it sends.

“You’re going to do something,” the woman says blankly. It’s a forced tone of voice; her heartbeat is anything but still.

“We’re really not,” Jonathan says. A dust of red glints back in his eyes at the mere sight of the bowl. “You’ve been watching us, haven’t you? We can’t do anything.”

The woman purses her lips. “You’re going to bite my hand off.”

“I’ll bite your hand off if—”

“Nancy,” Jonathan hisses. “Not helping!”

She throws him an irritated look but scowls when she realizes he’s right. “If you don’t hold the bowls up, then we’re going to die—”

“Oh my God—”

Nancy speaks over Jonathan’s voice and continues. “—and then your boss will be pissed and he will kill you. We won’t bite you, I promise, but like. What’s worse? Losing your hand or your life?”

The woman strokes her chin, gazing at the bowl, then at Nancy considerably.

“Are you—are you seriously thinking about it?” Jonathan sputters.

She does it in the end. Nancy lifts her head up from the bowl halfway through, the hunger in her stomach finally quelled, and grins at the woman. “See? Didn’t bite your hand off.”

The woman jerks backwards and the rest of the blood spills over Nancy’s knees.

You would  _think_ that someone working for Brenner wouldn’t be squeamish about a vampire with blood in their teeth. Go figure.

After the third time they’re fed blood, Nancy asks Jonathan, “How long do you think we’ve been here?”

“Four days. Or four months.”

“No way we could survive four months with that little amount of blood.”

He shrugs. “Murray said each vampire is different. If Brenner thinks we’re capable of—” He whispers the rest in her hair. “—going to the Upside Down, then we could handle this. Maybe we are stronger than we think. We don’t know other vampires.”

“True.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve never bought into time being a concept until we got locked in here.”

Jonathan barks out a laugh. “My stake is starting to look gross.”

“Starting? It’s turning  _yellow,_ somehow.”

“Wait, why isn’t yours yellow? What the hell?”

Nancy laughs so hard that it’s difficult to stop. This is ridiculous. Everything is ridiculous.

She might as well take what joy she can find.

.

.

.

Nancy’s half-asleep the next time the door opens. But the moment she registers who it is, she’s fully awake.

She manages to elbow Jonathan. “Jonathan, wake up. Wake up!”

He stirs next to her, mumbling in her hair. “Wassit?”

Nancy yanks violently on her handcuffs. She tries, again and again, snarling with enough fury to burn down a building. “I’m going to kill you! I’m going to fucking—”

Brenner’s laughter must be her least favourite thing in the world. He points his finger from their handcuffs to their stakes. “How, exactly?”

“What did you do to them?” Jonathan yells. His hands curl into fists that he bangs against the pole. “If you laid a finger on their heads, I’ll—”

“You might actually break that pole down,” Brenner says, sounding more intrigued than mocking.

Nancy starts banging her fists against the pole too. “Good.”

Brenner’s heart thumps as he tries to contain a flinch, the movement barely noticeable.

Nancy whirls her head at Jonathan, confused, until she sees it.

His shining, red eyes in particular.

“Nancy, your eyes,” his voice rasps, equal parts shocked as her.

She gasps, because she feels it then, the bone-deep knowledge that her eyes are red, and, as she licks her pointed teeth, that she’s on the way to getting her fangs back.

Brenner should be horrified, but he isn’t, and Nancy’s never been so goddamn pissed off before. His eyes light up and he draws closer, his hand stroking his chin. “Isn’t that something. You two are remarkable.”

“You’re remarkably—” Nancy bites out.

“Shh, shh, save your colourful language for the ride.” Brenner waves a hand and smiles eerily. His tie has a cartoon polar bear near the bottom and right above its nose, is a drop of blood. It’s the creepiest thing she’s ever seen.

“ _Excuse me!?_ ”

Nancy starts kicking at the air, but the handcuffs and the exhaustion weighing her down from the stake make her miss Brenner as he nears her. “I will kill you, don’t think I—” The rest of her words are muffled by a scream as Brenner pushes the stake in Nancy’s chest.

Jonathan starts shouting words that Nancy can’t make out. All she sees, all she  _feels,_ is the stake plunging further and further. Tears cloud her eyes. She cries out in agony, her chest searing, every nerve on fire.

“Just to subdue you.” Brenner stops pushing the stake further, but taps his fingers against the side of it. “That about does it.”

The light in her eyes die. Fighting the instinct to close her eyes, she forces them wide-open and stares into Brenner’s lifeless gaze. It stings, but so does her rage. “Your time’s running out,” she seethes, clenching her jaw.

She swears, for a second she sees the fear in his eyes. But Brenner just twists the stake, causing Nancy to cry out.

Jonathan continues screaming, yanking harder and harder, and actually manages to bend the pole. He keeps going, his eyes a bright red, but Brenner pushes his stake in.

“Soon,” Brenner says by the door. He takes one final look at him and closes the door.

For some period of time, Nancy and Jonathan yell and hiss and sob. After that, they turn to each other and rest their foreheads together.

“We’re going to be fine,” Nancy says.

“Our story doesn’t end here,” Jonathan says.

“I’ve got you.”

“And I’ve got you.”

“We’re going to kill him.” She buries her head in his neck, aching in a million places for a million different things.

He makes a soft, pleased sound. “We will.”

Neither have to say they’ll try something before Brenner can take them to Portland. It goes unspoken, but it’s all Nancy can hear.

.

.

.

They fall asleep and wake up a few hours later right as the same, scrawny kid from the start comes back in.

“Hey!” Nancy furrows her eyebrows. “They sent you back? We honestly thought they killed you.”

“ _Why_ would you think that!” The kid moves forward and holds two bowls of blood in front of him, kicking the door shut behind him.

Jonathan shrugs, as best as he can considering his hands are pinned by handcuffs above his head. “Well, we hadn’t seen you. It was a reasonable assumption.”

“And a  _horrifying_ one!”

“You are way too squeamish to be working for Brenner,” Nancy drawls. She licks her lips as her gaze follows the bowl, the hunger in her stomach deepening as the kid steps closer and closer.

He shrugs and sets the bowl by their feet.

“Goddammit, how are we supposed to—” Nancy’s convinced that she’s hallucinating, but she still cuts herself off, too dazed to speak.

Her heart still warms even if she thinks she’s just hearing Steve.

“Do I really need to hold it up for you?”

“Holy shit,” Jonathan murmurs, quietly enough that the kid doesn’t hear.

That’s when Nancy realizes she’s not hallucinating. Steve is  _here._

And walking  _right past their fucking room._

Nancy wants to kill him before or after she kisses him. She can’t decide. Steve’s so stupid, God, she loves him, she loves him, she—

Steve turns back around and pops his head back into view. His eyebrows are furrowed as he scans the room before his eyes settle on Nancy and Jonathan.

She’s able to hear his heart actually skipping a beat. His gaze softens as he presses his face against the window.

“Are you going to drink it or not?”

Jonathan blinks. He clears his throat and nods awkwardly, staring into the bowl and away from Steve.

This might be their last chance.

Fuck it.

“If I gave you a way to help us, would you take it?”

The kid looks down at Nancy, chewing on his lower lip. “I told you—”

“Please. It’ll save an innocent teen’s life, and I’m not talking about mine. All I would ask from you is that you walk away. That’s it.” If she could bet her life on anything, which she technically is doing, then she would bet that the kids dismantled the security cameras.

“Please,” Jonathan says, lapping the remaining blood from the bowl. “Us having a chance means  _you_ have a chance. Whatever shit he has on you is done the second we get our hands on him. Help us help you.”

The kid bounces his leg up and down, biting the inside of his cheek. “Ugh, fine! I’ll help. What do you need?”

“Give me the rest of that blood,” Nancy says.

“I was already going to.”

“Just—”

She downs all of it in one go as soon as the bowl presses against her mouth. “Now,” she says, licking her mouth dry, “walk away and don’t acknowledge the teenage boy staring into the window.”

“The  _what!?_ ” He whirls around and squeaks when he sees Steve.

Steve freezes and raises a gun, which—oh. Nancy had never seen him with one before, despite the weekly sessions he would have with Lucas and Dustin at the range, and decides she kinda likes it.

“Steve!” Jonathan whisper-shouts, his face split in a grin. “Lower the gun!”

“It’s okay!” Nancy mouths, then adds to the kid, “He won’t shoot. Probably.”

“You guys are insane,” the kid huffs. He approaches the door and pushes it open slightly. He side-eyes Steve’s gun and snorts. “I didn’t see anything. But you realistically have about ten minutes until  _he_ would notice. Don’t fuck up and get caught again.”

“Thanks,” Jonathan calls out dryly as the kid walks off and closes the door. This time, there isn’t the sound of the lock seconds afterwards.

Steve’s gun clatters to the floor. “What did they  _do_ to you?” He runs towards them and sinks to his knees, eyes flitting from their stakes, to the handcuffs, to their blood. “I’m so sorry, I cannot—”

“Steve,” Nancy says firmly. Jonathan and Steve are both crying, and she  _wants_ to, she does, but the switch in her mind has already been turned on. She steeled herself the second she saw Steve. “I need you to pull the stakes out. Carefully, okay? If you think your hands are shaking and the stake has to shift, push it down, not up. You understand?”

“Nance, I don’t think I can—”

“Yes, you can,” Jonathan says gently. “You can do it, okay? You’re capable and we trust you.”

Nancy soaks up the sound of Steve’s heartbeat, violent in its pounding in his ribcage. He swallows and heaves out a deep breath. “God, I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he laughs. He steadies one hand on the back of Nancy’s stake, the other in her hair. His thumb strokes her scalp. “On three, I’ll pull okay? One. Two. Three.”

It takes every fibre in her being not to yell. This is unbearable pain, splicing through her, worse than when Brenner plunged it into her back.

But once it’s out, the relief is immeasurable.

“Are you okay?” Steve and Jonathan ask, but she hisses that he needs to pull Jonathan’s out too.

Jonathan hisses quietly and gasps once the stake is out.

“Why is your stake  _yellow?_ ” Steve asks in disgust, flinging it across the room.

“I don’t know! Is that important right now?”

“Kind of—”

Nancy pulls on her handcuffs and they snap instantly, freeing her from the pole. “I missed my strength,” she sighs. She rubs her wrists and stretches, nearly moaning at the ache. She tears the handcuffs off individually. The hole in her chest slowly closes off.

She blinks and the red is there, brighter than ever.

 _Finally_.

“Here, I got it.” Nancy shifts to her knee and growls at the burn.

Steve’s hand steadies her shoulder as she breaks Jonathan free. The handcuffs drop to the floor.

The first thing Jonathan does is throw his arms around Steve’s shoulders. The second thing is pull Nancy into them.

This is when Nancy tears up. She presses her head into Steve’s neck, taking in his smell, and squeezes Jonathan’s hand. There are about a million questions racing through her mind, but she takes a few moments to take this all in.

Steve’s here. The kids must be here. Everything’s coming together.

“How long has it been?” Jonathan asks, pushing Steve’s hair away from his forehead.

Nancy reluctantly pulls back to look at Steve, unable to keep from smiling.

“Uh, five days?”

“FIVE DAYS!?” Nancy and Jonathan repeat incredulously.

“That felt like five fucking months,” she says. “Five days. Goddamn. This room is a nightmare. Let’s go. Where are the kids? Why did they send you here  _by yourself?_ ”

Steve huffs as he shifts from his knees to his feet. “There’s a lot of ground to cover. This place is huge.”

“How did you find us?” Jonathan asks. He stumbles to his feet and sways slightly. Nancy grabs his wrist to keep him upright, but also to balance herself.

“Murray  _was_ looking into Brenner,” Steve says. “It only took us so long ‘cuz everyone was super fucking injured and there was a whole conflict about how we should go in. Like if we should just  _go for it_ or take some time to plan since if we fuck up, there’s no coming back. Five days is like the middle ground, I guess. I’m sorry we took so long.”

“ _I’m_ sorry,” Nancy says. She cups his jaw, searching his face for any bruises. “They hurt you. Where? Your stomach? What did they—”

“I’m fine,” he says, smiling. “Seriously. Now c’mon. We’ve gotta go.”

“How will they know—”

Steve interrupts Jonathan by pulling a  _walkie-talkie_ from his side and speaking into it. “Pascal,” he says in a deeper voice than usual. “8.”

“What the fuck,” Nancy says, squinting at Steve. She takes in the sight of him: gun-wielding, talking into a walkie-talkie in a voice that isn’t his, and running around an evil scientist’s lab. It’s so very  _him_ that she smiles despite herself.

“Pascal was the code-word,” Steve explains. “For when we found you two. And eight is the floor number. Except it’s not. We decided to do the actual number plus five. We’re on the third floor.”

“We’ve got to go,” Nancy urges. She grabs their wrists and pulls them forward, nearly tripping over her own feet to get to the door. “We don’t know what we’ve got waiting for us.” She says this, and yet, the moment they’re at the door, she stops and whirls around.

Jonathan throws her a confused look, not letting go of her hand. “What is it!?”

“I just …” She trails off. There really wasn’t a need in stopping them, but they can’t go out into a battle without a weighted moment. “We’re all we need to do this, okay? Us and the kids. We’re a team. We can do it. That was our only mistake in the house, in 1983. We didn’t get help. But now is different. Especially because we’re going to win this time.”

Steve whistles. Jonathan beams, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“God, I love you,” Steve says casually, grinning as he pulls on Nancy who pulls on Jonathan outside and into the hallway.

Nancy’s too starstruck to respond. She glances at Jonathan who makes a  _wait, are you gonna say it to me_ face, and her smile broadens. She raises an eyebrow as if to tell him he’ll get his three-words soon.

Jonathan smiles at her, then nudges her. His eyes flash red and his fangs glimmer in his mouth. She shifts and nods her head towards one end of the hallway, away from the sound of heartbeats.

It’s so difficult to keep her mouth shut and not talk to Steve. She has  _so_ many questions, so many things she wants to say, and can tell Jonathan has the same problem too.

But if she stays quiet for a few minutes, she’ll have a lifetime to ask all the questions she wants. An actual lifetime.

The halls are narrow and white, overwhelmingly sterile. She wouldn’t be surprised if Brenner has a cleaning crew or something to get rid of all the blood he must draw. It goes on forever, but no one can anticipate  _where_ the hallway leads to.

“ _How the fuck did I come down here!”_ Steve hisses as they go in a circle, returning to Nancy and Jonathan’s room.

Distantly, a gruff voice demands,  _they have to be here._

“Goddammit,” Nancy says under her breath. She tilts her head to the bend in the hallway, pressing her finger to her mouth.

Steve nods. His eyes darken as he draws his gun and points it to the bend.

“I know now is a terrible time to say this,” Jonathan says, wiping grime off the black lines etched underneath his eyes. “But y’know, you with a gun. I’m a fan of the look.”

“Really?” Steve’s cocky grin is annoyingly hot and annoyingly distracting with all things considered. “Good to know.”

“Keep it in your pants, Byers,” Nancy whispers, biting back a grin. The blood from earlier rejuvenates her, fed her with all the energy she lost from the stake and then some. She could do anything. Like take down a rogue CIA agent for example.

Even with three of Brenner’s goons drawing closer, she’s not afraid. Not one bit.

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “You’re so lucky I love you both.”

“Wait, did you just—”

“ _What the fuck are you_ —” It’s loud enough that Steve hears this too. That and the resounding, audible sound of a fist slamming into a face.

She already knows who it is, but she speeds down the hall and turns, in time to see her sister shoot a six-foot man with the thickest arms Nancy’s ever seen. The bullet misses his heart, but Nancy knows it’s deliberate. Intent to wound, not kill.

“Holly!”

Holly turns around. Her face brightens, blonde ponytail swaying. “Na—”

Jonathan is a foot behind the second man about to shoot Holly and smashes his head, knocking him out, in a millisecond. “That was hard,” he says flatly, grimacing as he rolls the man’s body away from his feet.

A shot goes off.

Jonathan turns around slowly. He plucks the bullet out of his shoulder. “You really shouldn’t be surprised by this.”

Nancy smirks just as Holly throws herself into Nancy’s arms. She lets out a small grunt, but welcomes the embrace, tightening her arms around Holly’s wasit. “Did they lay a finger on you?”

“Me? I’m  _fine._ What about you, huh—”

“Absolutely fine, but I can heal, you—”

“Don’t even, I can’t imagine what—”

Another shot goes off, like an alarm sounding in Nancy’s head. She frantically pulls away from Holly only to find a third man by Steve and Jonathan’s feet, clutching his leg and howling in pain.

Jonathan bends down to knock him out with an easy punch across his cheek.

“That guy really tried punching a vampire.  _My_ vampire.” Steve tuts, lowering his gun and propping that hand against the wall. He pants. “Johnny Boy, you good?”

Jonathan just melts into Steve’s arms, holding the back of Steve’s head and kissing alongside his cheek. “‘M great. I love—”

Mike bursts out the same end of the hallway. His hair is tied back, pinned in place, as he stamps forward. He gestures to the mass of bodies by their feet, then to them. “We just spent  _fifteen minutes_ circling this floor, you couldn’t have stayed in—Nancy? Jonathan? I knew, but, I, holy—”

Nancy runs, not speeds, into Mike’s arms. She accidentally steps on the first man’s back, but he tried killing her sister, so she doesn’t feel bad when she deliberately steps back on his back again. “I should’ve let you come in,” she sobs into his shoulder. The kids are buzzing behind Mike and start to disperse towards Jonathan, but she can’t pull herself away from Mike, not yet.

“Don’t.” Mike wraps his arms around her back and pulls her in, exhaling heavily into her hair. “We’re together now, alright? That’s all that counts. We’re getting out of this.”

She nods, smiling through her tears. She examines his face even though she can smell no bruises on him. “You’re okay?”

Tears slide freely down his face. “I am now.”

Nancy forcibly disentangles herself from Mike to look at the other kids. A lump forms in her throat. “You guys—”

“We’re fine,” they chorus.

“No, you’re not.” Jonathan’s voice cracks and Nancy understands why. Dustin’s eye is blackened. Max’s knees are bruised and scraped. Lucas has a gash on his leg, tearing into his pants. Will’s fist drips with blood. Jane’s the only one without so much as a hair out of place.

“We’re fine,” Dustin insists. “Don’t worry about us. We need to  _go._ ”

“Wait!” Will says. “Can you tell if anyone else is here? Any other people that Brenner’s experimenting on?”

“Will,” Mike says, looking pained to say this. “We need to leave. Now.”

“We can come back,” Jane says, touching Will’s wrist. “But we can’t help anyone if we don’t help ourselves. I know. I know, trust me. But this is what’s best.”

“C’mon, buddy. It’ll be okay,” Jonathan says soothingly.

Will draws out a heavy breath and nods. “Okay, let’s—”

Nancy and Jonathan nearly bump heads trying to push Will out of the way as a woman turns the corner with a gun raised. “Everyone, du—”

She ducks her head, ears ringing as numerous guns fire. Nancy knocks the woman out cold and pushes her into the group of bodies amassed. She can’t hear anything. Can’t even hear how many people there are.

For a split second, she remains huddled on the floor. Truth be told, the sounds of gunfire terrify her. It’s not like she’s ever used a gun; she never had to.

But she can help.

She rises to her feet and stands between the men and women firing—seven, she counts—and the kids.

“NANCE, WHAT ARE YOU—”

“She’s fine!” Lucas shouts.

The bullets stop on the side of the kids, but not from Brenner’s people. It’s a strange sensation, but it mostly irritates her skin, like a Nerf-gun going off at her. She nearly yells at them that it’s pointless, but then figures that screw it. Might as well waste their bullets on her.

Anyway, Jonathan goes one by one in knocking them out. When the man furthest right flies into the wall and then into the floor, Nancy nearly loses her mind—until Dustin screams, “FUCK YEAH, EL!”

Jonathan steps back, red eyes widening as Jane takes care of the rest. She forms a neat pile of bodies stacked up against the wall and grins. “I’m fine,” she says as Max wraps her arms around her from behind. “Honestly.”

“That was unbelievably cool,” Nancy says.

“You’re unbelievably disgusting, you have bullets … everywhere.” Mike wrinkles his nose but helps pluck the dozens upon dozens of bullets digging into her skin.

“Jonathan’s stake turned yellow,” she huffs.

Steve laughs. “That just means you’re both gross.”

“All of you are gross,” Dustin says fondly, touching his eye only to wince. Lucas scowls at him, but strokes just underneath the darkened skin. “I heard you talking in the car, remember? You and your  _blood kink_ and  _vampire kink_ comments are disgusting.”

Everyone scowls in disgust. Even Will looks uncomfortable, stopping midway in hugging Jonathan. “Really?”

Jonathan, flustered, grabs Will’s shoulders and pulls him forward. “It’s an inside-joke,” he huffs, holding onto Will tightly.

Will stands still for a moment, before hugging Jonathan back with as much earnest.

“He’s terrible. How did you do that for  _years?_ ”

“Don’t worry about me. How are you doing, what—”

“You dealt with that for years and then some,” Nancy says, the reminder of her conversation with Brenner back in Murray’s house flickering in the back of her mind. “But you didn’t have to.”

Will’s eyes widen. His breath catches in his throat as his thumb brushes a cut on his cheek. “He told you?”

Nancy waits for the kids to speak over each other, but they don’t. Everyone stares, watching, no one, not even Jonathan, having the faintest of ideas of what they were talking about.

This is a bad idea. Within seconds, armed people could flood the floor, surround them, and they’d be back where they started. Brenner would immediately take them to Portland and they would be launched into the Upside Down even sooner than initially planned.

But Nancy’s feet start running without her permission. She launches herself at Will. It’s kind of ridiculous, the fact that she’s cradling his head, because she’s an entire foot shorter than him and has to rise onto her tiptoes. “I know it wasn’t for me,” she says, the words pouring out of her mouth in a rush. “But thank you.”

“Nancy,” Will says slowly. He hugs her back and draws out a heavy breath. “Of course it was mostly for Jonathan, but. But if it was just you, I would’ve done it anyway.”

“Will.”

Nancy and Will let go of each other to look at Jonathan, his face a cross between crestfallen and confusion. “What is she talking about?”

“No time, explain later,” she answers instead. It’s not difficult to tell from the way Will tenses that he doesn’t want to tell Jonathan; she can understand why. Jonathan would not forgive himself, believing  _he_ caused all of his brother’s pain.

The crease in Lucas’ forehead lets up. “So … let’s get the fuck out of here?”

“We really don’t want to kill Brenner?” Jonathan says. “I mean, he could come after us anyway, or leave and then we’re fucked. Portland can be easier if we just do this here … we’re still in New Jersey, right?”

“Right,” Jane says.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved to be in New Jersey,” Nancy says. “But shouldn’t we at least try?”

“Are you sure?” Dustin says, his heart now racing.

“You don’t have to join us. None of you do. If—”

Max rolls her eyes at Nancy, raising an eyebrow. “The last time we separated, you were kidnapped and we had our asses handed to us. Not an option this time. We do this together or we don’t do this at all. Right?”

“Right,” they chorus.

Nancy can’t help the feeling of bile rising in her throat. “I just don’t want any of you to get hurt.”

“We won’t,” Holly insists. She taps the gun in her hand. “We can take care of ourselves.”

“You just saw me shoot that guy, right?” Steve chimes in, unbelievably upbeat.

Jonathan ducks his head, but it doesn’t quite hide his smile. “I did. And you’re good? Not feeling bad or traumatized?”

“I feel pretty fucking good about—”

“ _Okay_ ,” Mike says, smiling a bit when Steve scoffs at him. He stands in the centre of the narrow hallway, turning slowly as he speaks to meet everyone’s eyes. “Seems like we’ve only got one shot at this. We have to do it right. We have no idea what this layout looks like, where Brenner is, so we have to wing it as we go. No splitting up,” he adds with a pointed look at Nancy and Jonathan.

Nancy rolls her eyes. She glances at the mass of  _bodies_ on the floor, then at her brother. “Not the time, asshole.”

“Any questions?”

“I don’t know how to phrase this nicely,” Dustin says.

“I’ll bite,” Lucas says, softly touching Dustin’s back. “Are we killing anyone?”

The air shifts. Mike looks to Nancy for guidance.

“We’re only here for Brenner,” she says. “If you  _have_ to, that’s another story, but—but most of these people are just people who got caught up in the wrong thing, trusted someone they shouldn’t have. I can’t—we can’t. Understood?”

Everyone nods.

Nancy nods back. “Alright, let’s move this—” An alarm sounds, high and louder than bearable. Her ears are already sensitive, so she cries out, digging her hands into her ears. “MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!”

No one can hear her, but they wouldn’t have needed to be told anyway. They rush forwards, down the hall. The alarm rings louder than anything Nancy’s ever heard before. She can’t hear anyone’s heartbeats.

Somehow, she knows that it was deliberate.

They round the corner and come to a halt.

Not that it lasts long—the dozens upon dozens of men and women charge forward. No guns.

Max throws the first punch as Jane flicks them a man charging at Will into the wall and out of consciousness.

Nancy blinks, dumbstruck and in awe. Steve and Jonathan appear at her sides suddenly, Steve’s jaw clenched, Jonathan brandishing his fangs.

There aren’t any words. There aren’t  _enough_ words. She just sends them each a quick, fond look, her smile soft around the edges before hardening as she kicks her foot into a woman and sends her reeling back.

Time ebbs on. She’s not sure how long they spend in that hallway, knocking people out left and right. The others tire, but don’t stop. Nancy and Jonathan match their beginning paces, claws as red as their eyes with blood that does not belong to them.

All the while, the alarm still blares, deafening and honestly just  _annoying._

It’s almost too easy. Brenner would know they Nancy and Jonathan could outmatch bullets, let alone fists. He would also know that Steve and the kids are armed.

Something is going on, but Nancy can’t think about it. Not right now.

Through the sounds of sirens and screaming and blood splattering the walls, she hears a distinct cry that manages to cut through all the noise. “ _Mike!”_

Mike’s eye throbs. Blood gushes down his face. “I’m fine!” He says, raising his fist to deck the man in front of him.

“Nance, we can’t—do this for much longer, I don’t—” Steve pants. “How many fucking people are  _here?_ ”

“Quite a lot,” the man in front of Steve growls.

Steve just rolls his eyes and knees him in the chest. “Wasn’t talking to you.”

“I can do this,” Jane says quietly. She shuts her eyes, balling her hands into fists.

Nancy frowns. What was Jane doing? “Jane,  _Jane,_ what’re you—”

Lucas grabs Nancy’s wrist before she even realizes she’s running towards Jane. “Trust her on this,” he says by her ear, breathing heavily. “Trust me.”

It takes every ounce of concentration Nancy has to remain in her spot. Blood starts to drip down Jane’s nose the second that bodies—at least thirty—slam into the floor.

Jane hits the floor a second afterwards.

Nancy waits until she’s sure that Jane took everyone out, she did, to join the kids, Steve, and Jonathan flocking towards her.

Max falls to her knees, grabbing Jane’s head. Her face is twisted, eyebrows pulled into a glare with tears rolling down her eyes. But she still scoops Jane into her arms and carries her with ease.

“NOW—” Will shouts. The alarm suddenly stops, but he still screams, “—WHAT? Oh. My ears. I can’t. I’m so tired.”

“Everyone whisper,” Steve yells.

Nancy laces her fingers with Steve and presses another finger to his mouth. “Shh.” Her throat burns. She’s hungrier than usual, the lack of food ruining the years of work Murray put into helping them resist their hunger. The reminder of Murray sends a wave of panic until she remembers that the kids have him. He’s safe. Definitely away from Brenner. “We need to go. If you’re bleeding, can you just—wipe it, please—”

The overwhelming of odour makes her sway on her feet. She leans against the wall, swallowing back whines of pain.

“Jonathan!” Will cries.

Nancy’s head pounds but she forces herself to look at Steve, who holds Jonathan up with a frown. “What do you need? What is it? Did he—did Brenner—”

“Blood,” she rasps. “We haven’t eaten food in days, and all of this is fighting we haven’t done in ages, and—”

Steve taps his neck. “I’m prepared to make that sacrifice.”

Nancy snorts. “Don’t get a boner.”

“I’m disgusted,” Max says, wrinkling her nose.

“Appalled,” Lucas adds.

Dustin pretends to gag.

“I mean, we’re right here,” Holly says, making a face. “Hurry up and feed my sister and Jonathan please.”

It takes a minute and a half for Steve to give Jonathan and Nancy his blood. The kids pointedly turn away, making comments under their breath as if they can’t  _hear_ them.

“Thank you.” Nancy buries her face against Steve’s, licking the remaining drops of blood from her teeth. Her mouth brushes against his collarbone as she murmurs, “You know I love you too, right?”

Steve gently tilts her face back to smile at her, goofy and silly and beautiful. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“One more time.”

“I love you.”

“Just—”

“ _We don’t have time for this!”_ Mike practically shrieks. One hand rests on his hip, the other clutching his gun.

“Wait, I didn’t get to tell Jonathan I—”

“Steve,” Mike says, glowering. “Do you want Jonathan to die?”

“Mike,” Nancy warns.

“I’m just saying!”

Max rolls her eyes. She shifts carefully to keep Jane’s arm around her neck. “Everyone shut up. Let’s go.”

“But I want to tell Jonathan I love him.” Steve pouts, but follows Mike’s lead as they trek towards the first sight of an elevator that Nancy has seen all day.

Dustin ruffles Steve’s hair as he walks next to him. “Do it in the car.”

They file into the elevator, all ten of them squeezing inside.

“Am I actually hearing elevator music right now?” Will says.

Holly scowls. “He’s got a massive, secret lab, but can’t, oh, I don’t know, have the elevators go a little faster.”

The kids speak tiredly to each other, mostly bitching about the elevator. But she can’t hear them. Something clogs her nose, a pungent odour coming from nowhere but suddenly everywhere, wafting through the elevator.

Nancy clutches Jonathan’s wrist. “Do you smell that?”

“Shit,” Jonathan swears. “Fire. There’s a fucking  _fire._ ”

“Brenner’s setting this place on fire,” Will says. “He’s scared. He’s—” He jerks forward and slaps at the button for the first floor, panicking. “He must be leaving. Dear God. He’s leaving most of his people for dead, isn’t he, and he’s trying to burn us alive. I’m not dying in an elevator.”

The next minute is the most stressful thing Nancy has ever experienced. Everyone speaks over each other, heartbeats going mad in her ears, and the elevator creaking so goddamn slowly that everyone else can smell the fire.

“We’re not dying,” Mike says. “Too much shit has happened to us for us to die like this.”

“That’s not—that’s not as logical as you think it is!” Steve exclaims.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nancy soothes. She’s calm. Probably because she can tell in a way the kids can’t that the fire won’t reach them. The elevator is slow, but not that slow.

Jonathan strokes Steve’s back. “We’ll make it out in time. But, um, curious, what  _time_ is it? The ten of us, walking out with guns, past a burning building won’t look so good.”

Lucas rubs his eyes. “Um, two am? It’ll be okay, anyway, we came out of a back exit. Definitely the one Brenner will be in. If we miss him, though …”

“We’ll figure it out,” Mike says. “Besides, he just set most of his people on fire. He’s kind of fucked anyway, isn’t he?”

A silence falls across the elevator. She wonders if none of them thought Brenner would do that.

It’s too late to save any of them. They couldn’t without killing themselves and considering that’s what Brenner’s people were trying to do anyway—it’s not an easy decision to continue going up, but, for Nancy at least, it isn’t a hard one either.

A few minutes later and they’re finally on the highest floor, which is technically the ground floor. The halls are clouded with smoke, but no fire in sight. Nancy doesn’t bother taking in the sight as someone, Holly she thinks, tugs on her hand, and they’re all pulling each other through the floor, out of the room.

Lucas was right; they had nothing to worry about. Sirens blare in the air, but from where they are, there isn’t another soul in sight.

The kids slant against the wall, catching their breath. Mike takes Jane, still unconscious, from Max’s arms.

Nancy’s about to offer instead when she catches it. “I’ve got you, now,” she mutters. She races past the building and down the alleyway,  _runs_ because she loves the feeling, putting one foot in front of the other, feeling the ground, steady and solid beneath her.

She runs too because Brenner isn’t going anywhere.

“Wanted to wait and see if we burned there too?” She asks when she spots him, two blocks away from the burning lab. It doesn’t look like a lab, though; it’s a pharmacy by the looks of it.

Brenner startles at the sight of her. He doesn’t move though. It satisfies her that he’s accepted his fate.

“Don’t worry.” Nancy’s eyes glow. “I mean. Worry. Just not about what happened to us. Your only concern should be about what’ll happen to you.”

.

.

.

The car ride back to Murray’s house is the strangest and most surreal twenty minutes of Nancy’s life.

Brenner’s squeezed in between Will and, for some reason, Steve. He’s handcuffed. They searched him for weapons and he had nothing on him.

Dustin drives with Holly in the front seat. Nancy, Jonathan, and Mike are in the back, Jane on their laps, while Max and Lucas sit on the floor by their feet.

“Hey, Brenner?”

Brenner sighs. “Yes, Mr. Wheeler?”

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Will sighs, looking over his shoulder with a softness in his eyes. “No, you’re not.”

“I might,” Mike huffs. “Can I at least punch him?”

“Can all of us punch him?” Steve’s glare aimed at Brenner only deepens. “Do you remember interrupting my date, you goblin-fucker?”

Brenner’s lower lip curls. “I’ve never fucked a goblin.”

“I hate you,” Steve says.

“I don’t know your name.”

“Why are we talking to the murderer?” Lucas asks. “And why are we letting  _Steve_ threaten him? ‘Goblin-fucker’? Callie can do better than that.”

“Don’t say my daughter’s name in front of him,” Holly hisses.

“He wouldn't have known she was your daughter if you hadn’t said that,” Mike says.

Holly flicks his ankle. “I’ll kill you.”

Mike bends down and looks her right in the eye. “I dare you.”

“Both of you, shut up,” Nancy sighs. “We have a guest.”

“He’s not a guest,” Jonathan says, flabbergasted. “He’s a hostage. Oh, God, he’s a hostage.”

Brenner tips his head up. “I thought I was a goblin-fucker.” He sounds amused.

Max bangs her elbow against the back of Brenner’s seat. “You’re both. You can be multiple things.”

Dustin honks. “It's been a long day, so can everyone—”

“ _Shh!_ ” Jonathan says. “It’s the middle of the night, we’re eleven people stuffed into a shady-looking van, speeding away with a hostage, right after a  _pharmacy_ blew up. If all of this ends with a cop stopping us, we’re done.”

“Why don’t we lock him in the trunk?” Holly suggests.

Nancy scoffs. “We are not—”

“Can’t,” Lucas says, dismayed. “All of Willow’s stuff is in the trunk. She’s really into skiing.”

“Can I meet Willow?” Will’s voice is soft.

The car swerves. Everyone swears at Dustin. “Sorry, I just—so we can tell people now? Is that a thing?”

“She would love to meet her namesake,” Lucas adds.

“I mean. I don’t—I don’t know if—”

“You should meet my niece,” Mike says. His eyes become very warm when Will turns around to look at him, eyebrow raised. “She’s a cutie.”

“Yes, Mike, please, don’t  _ask me_ if I would be okay with Will meeting my daughter … not that I’m not! I’m sorry, my brother is just a shit-head.”

Nancy laughs. She looks out the window as Mike starts swearing at Holly, his words lacking any real heat. It’s dark, but there are cars out, whizzing past them, a blur of white lights and streetlights. It’s fuzzy. She wants a protein bar. She wants a BigMac. Vampires are supposed to be able to live off of  _just_ blood, but Murray ensured that would never be the case for her and Jonathan.

“Turns you more animalistic,” he would say. “Don’t want that. Need you and your big, human heart to keep saving the world.”

Nancy would always laugh and tell him to shut up. His smile would turn fond, just for a second, before he shooed her away, insisting he had a big, important thing to do.

“Where’s Murray?” She asks groggily.

“At his house,” Mike says. “Don’t worry. We left him with a gun.”

“Now I’m worried,” Jonathan mutters next to her.

Nancy laughs, hard, against Jonathan’s shoulder. “He’s going to give us so much shit for going in by ourselves, you know that, right?”

Steve huffs. “More shit than I’ll give you?”

“You love us too much,” she says easily. She sits up to see the tips of Steve’s ears turn pink.

His shoulders sag. “I do. Jonathan, I—I really don’t want it to say it in front of everyone. Especially in front of this old fart.”

Jonathan beams, and opens his mouth to respond, but Brenner makes a noise of contempt and starts to speak. “I take offence to that.”

“Good!” Steve snaps. “You should.”

Everyone starts yelling at Brenner then, going around and taking turns. Mike makes more threats of murder. Max’s threats are more graphic. Dustin yells so loudly that his voice cracks, the car swerving a few more times. Lucas hisses about karma.

When they reach Murray’s street, everyone, save for Dustin, stares at Nancy and Jonathan.

“This will be therapeutic,” Max says. “Threaten to castrate him.”

“I don’t … I don’t know,” Jonathan says. He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. “I just wanted my brother back. I have that. There is one thing left.”

Nancy doesn’t have to look at Jonathan to know what he’s talking about. She hadn’t even thought of the cure in days, not since before they left for New Jersey. If Brenner doesn’t talk, then what? How far could they go? How far  _would_ they go?

No one asks; it seems as though a wave of understanding passes.

Jonathan lightly nudges Nancy. “What about you?”

“I’ve said all that I’ve had to say. And honestly, I think Jane and Will have more to say than I would. But Jane’s still passed out, so Will?”

Will stares into the side of Brenner’s head. Brenner doesn’t look at him, no movement save for the twitch in his jaw.

Will looks at him for a long moment. His gaze hardens and his body goes rigid. After a long moment, he sighs and says, “He’ll have to live with this. Not with the shitty things he’s done, but the shitty things he’s done coming back to bite him in the ass. That’s more than enough for me.”

.

.

.

Getting Brenner into Murray’s house is an awkward affair.

They duct-tape his mouth, of course, but he thrashes and hisses and  _kicks._ “You’re sixty,” Mike growls, kneeing Brenner in the stomach. “Stop or you’ll get a heart attack.”

Jane wakes up as Max is carrying her across the lawn and as Mike wrangles Brenner into compliance. She’s suddenly up and springs out of Max’s arms, charging forward and landing a solid punch at Brenner’s cheek.

Mike grins. “Nice one, El. You want to take another one?”

“Nah, I’m good. Maybe in five minutes.”

Nancy just snorts and tells them to hurry up and bring Brenner inside.

She’s too distracted by the smell of pancakes that she knocks right into Murray on her first step inside. She didn’t notice him. “You look like shit,” she blurts out. “I did this to you. I’m so—”

“Don’t you dare,” Murray says. “If I taught you anything, it’s that you don’t have to be sorry for these things. For needing help. For not being there when you couldn’t have been. Knock it the fuck off.”

Nancy laughs wetly. She pulls him to her chest and ignores his complaint of his ribs. “I’ll fix it later.”

“Before or after you tell me why that shit-stain is in my house?”

“Oh come on, he’s my brother.”

“Nancy,” Mike growls, bumping into her from behind.

She elbows him back, rolling her eyes. “Easy shot. I couldn’t help myself. Dustin and Lucas have got him?”

“Can’t you  _hear?_ ”

“It was a question, you shit-head. I haven’t eaten in—so long. Holy fuck. Why haven’t you offered me pancakes?”

Murray grins. It reveals his split, but healing, mouth. “You slammed yourself into my broken ribs before I could. Where’s my favourite one?”

Nancy gasps right as Mike smirks and says, “He’s my favourite too.”

Jonathan walks in then with an arm swung across Will’s shoulder. His face brightens. “I’m—”

“Shut the hell up.” Murray grins and opens his arms.

Jonathan steps forward. He slowly and carefully wraps his arms around Murray, tucking his face into Murray’s neck. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too.” Murray squeezes Jonathan tighter.

Warmth spreads across Nancy. She has her brother on her right, Murray and Jonathan hugging in front of her, Will lingering by the door-frame and shooting her a grin, and her sister and Steve walking in, Steve making Holly laugh. A light feeling floats in her heart. It’s something she’s spent so long trying to catch, like a feather in the air. With Jonathan, she had managed to touch the feather, but never quite grab it. It’s not that he hadn’t been enough. It’s just that there were some things, Jonathan couldn’t do for her. A life needs love, but not just one type. It was the same for him too. He missed the love you can only get from a brother and a mother. They spent years, trying to grab the feather, until … until it just seemed unreachable. She had caught it months ago, but just a week ago, it slipped past her fingers. She’s got it back, though. Not planning on letting it go, either.

.

.

.

After Dustin and Lucas lock Brenner up in the basement, they all sit together in the kitchen and wolf down Murray’s pancakes. They’re all exhausted, so no one’s speaking, but it’s a nice sort of quiet. Nancy’s foot brushes against Steve’s. Jonathan’s elbow presses against hers. Mike and Holly keep glancing at her, to make sure she’s here, and the rest of the kids are smiling at each other and them.

Nancy and Jonathan need to sleep, lay down properly for at least a few hours. Mike and Will instantly say that they can deal with Brenner. The rest of the kids object, say that Will shouldn’t have to, that Mike is going to kill Brenner and ruin the entire thing. Holly reminds them that she can interrogate a suspect, and then Lucas says he’s a better shot than her, leading them nowhere.

“Oh my God!” Nancy shouts. She slams her empty cup onto the table, grabbing their attention. “Take turns, I guess? Just. Figure it out. But work together.” She expects someone to say that that would be stupid, but they don’t, so she, Jonathan, and Steve go upstairs and into their old room. There’s no way Steve’s watching whatever shit will happen downstairs; he’s still a kid, thrown into this world a few months ago compared to their decades.

Jonathan and Steve collapse onto the bed. Steve immediately curls up into Jonathan’s side, sighing into the crook of his neck and swinging a leg over his waist. “I need to tell you something.”

Jonathan’s eyes crinkle with a smile. He affectionately pushes Steve’s hair away from his forehead. Presses his lips to the spot above his eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Nancy leans against her counter, watching. Her legs are sore when that shouldn’t be possible. She should lay down, but the sight of them is beautiful. Especially after it felt like she wouldn’t see it again.

Steve gently drags his knuckles across Jonathan’s cheeks. He watches Jonathan with a quiet, tenderness in his eyes; Nancy’s favourite look on him. Honestly, one of Nancy’s favourite things in general. Steve leans closer until his mouth is at the hollow of Jonathan’s throat. Murmurs so quietly that he knows only Nancy and Jonathan will hear. She doesn’t know why it makes her heart flutter. Even if he said it at regular volume, they would still be the only ones to hear it, but it’s a gesture that she appreciates.

“I love you.”

Jonathan pulls Steve closer, an arm wrapped around his back tightly, like he won’t let go. “I love you too.”

Steve grins, which makes Jonathan grin, and then  _Nancy’s_ grinning, and her face kind of hurts from it.

“Are you not joining us?” Steve asks. He tilts his head ever so slightly to look at her.

She shrugs, aiming at nonchalance. “Say those three words and I might.”

“You’re fucking tired,” Steve says.

Jonathan laughs. It’s got to be one of the best things in the world. “C’mere, Nancy. Please?”

She’s honestly too tired to keep this going. She doesn’t pretend to think it over, just jumps onto the bed and laughs as they squeal.

“I love you,” Steve says into her hair, a beat later.

Nancy spreads her arm across Steve’s chest. She kisses Jonathan’s hairline. “I love you too. Both of you. We’re finally here.”

They’re not, not really. There’s still getting Brenner to talk. Getting Will settled into life, figuring out what to tell the authorities that don’t include Holly about what happened. And then the cure, whatever that means, whatever they’ll have to do.

But this is a celebration. The hardest part is over.

At least for a few hours. For a few hours, Nancy will be fast asleep, holding and held by the boys she loves, content with the knowledge that everyone she adores is safe.

But when she wakes up to the sounds of the kids screaming from downstairs, she already knows what happened. She doesn’t need to speed downstairs, but she does.

“What happened?” Her voice is empty, hollow. For some reason, she can’t bear to see the sight—the embodiment of hopelessness, really, her last chance at a life.

“He just—we just—we went to get—” Dustin is panting, his breathing erratic.

“It’s okay,” Nancy says, lying through her teeth. “Someone explain. Please.”

Mike touches her shoulder. Nancy nearly flinches. “I’m sorry,” he starts to say.

She jerks away from him as tears rush to her eyes. “Can someone please fucking—”

“You said, earlier, that he didn’t have any weapons on him, right, Nancy?” Jane speaks slowly, looking right into Nancy’s eyes. She doesn’t try touching her, which Nancy is incredibly grateful for, just moves close enough that it blocks the floor from Nancy’s vision. “You could smell it on him. Well. He had something in his pockets. We think it’s cyanide. It’s—it’s not your fault. It’s odourless. You wouldn’t have known. I don’t—I don’t know how he got it, but he just—”

A violent ringing pounds in her ears. She can’t hear anything. She steps to her left, past Jane, to look at Brenner’s body on the floor. Cyanide can’t be a peaceful death, but there’s something wrong about it. He got a choice. He chose the ending of his story while taking away the ending of Nancy’s, of Jonathan’s.

If he’s dead, there’s no cure. No damn way anyone in that lab survived. The entire system that Brenner created topples with his death; that’s the one thing they were counting on.

But it’s the one thing that could’ve helped them.

“There are other ways—we’ll make it work, Nancy—” She thinks Will is speaking to her, his voice shaking terribly.

The cold is floor against her bare feet. The lifeless sensation floods through her, filling her up, overflowing out of her, as her world crumbles around her. She should be grateful. She should be relieved that at least she gets to see Steve, the kids, and her family again. Hope is a dangerous thing, she thinks. It gets you through the worst, but after the worst is gone, you hold onto it. You think anything can happen. You think you and your soulmate can get to really live, can get to grow old with your other soulmate, your family, your people. You think you can get the future you were promised.

You think, you hope, and you suffer.

On some basic level, she understands that in a few hours, maybe a few days, she won’t think this. She’s just hurting. Hope is a strength, and it’s healed more than it’s hurt.

But right now, with Brenner, and effectively the only real chance she had at a human life, dead, it doesn’t feel like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, friends! heads-up that yes, there will be another chapter. eleven chapters! won't change, but definitely more than what i initially expected.
> 
> not much to say except THE HARD PART IS OVER! well, for me at least, writing-wise. not easy for them. lots went down in this chapter, so i hope you enjoyed! super different from what i usually do, but it was fun to write. i would be thrilled to know what you think, because, like, validation y'know, as well as if you have any last-minute predictions on what'll happen!
> 
> i have So Many Feelings, but i don't want to clog this note, so like. come shout at me in the comments or tumblr (@trulyalpha).


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i present to you: the longest chapter of this fic.

Apparently, Nancy couldn’t stop crying for forty-five minutes. She can’t confirm or deny it.

Not because she’s being stubborn about it. She truly can’t remember what exactly happened after she came across Brenner’s body.

It felt like a second later that Steve helped her back into that van. Only Nancy started screaming because she could still see Brenner in the car. They had to get a separate car for her to drive back to Hawkins in.

She remembers that.

Three hours later—or maybe three seconds, three lifetimes, does it even matter anymore?—they board the cars. Time to go back to Hawkins. Back home.  

Nancy senses Will walking to her left as Dustin starts the engine. “I’m sorry for causing—”

“Don’t apologize,” Will says gently. “It’s okay. This is a better idea anyway. Everyone in that car is too fascinated by Murray to tell him to shut up, so he has people to listen to his conspiracy theories, and you have peace.”

It tugs a weak smile out of Nancy. She continues watching the kids. Jane’s nodding at something Murray says, looking serious as she tears through a pack of Twizzlers. “I don’t trust the government,” she says, which delights Murray as he continues rambling animatedly. Max, Lucas, Dustin, and Holly line up to join Jane and Murray in the van. Not having met Murray before all of this, they wanted to hear Murray’s insane stories and batshit theories. Mike wanted to drive with Murray, but then Will said he would drive with Jonathan, who would of course be with Nancy, so that was easily decided.

They’d only been in New Jersey for a week. And yet it changed everything. Or really, changed nothing. Not for her, anyway.

Will gets his life back. Brenner is dead. Those are good things.

 _You can mourn for yourself_ , a voice similar to Barb soothes in her mind.  _You can be happy for them. You can feel both._

Steve and Jonathan appear by her side, duffel bags slung over their backs, full of clothes and knickknacks belonging to Murray, Jonathan, and Nancy from the house. No one would be returning to New Jersey for awhile. Hopefully, forever.

The lab isn’t their fault. Nancy is surprised she hasn’t been hit with an insurmountable guilt yet. Brenner caused the fire. People died, but not everyone, and not nearly as many as they all thought.

The survivors all pointed fingers at Brenner. A warrant was out for his arrest. That much was available to the public. Whether too much of the lab was burnt for authorities to know or, worse, the authorities didn’t care to begin with, they wouldn’t know. For now, they didn’t need to.

Seemed like an open and shut case.

She thinks, vaguely, of the kid that helped them out. She prays that he’s okay.  

“You okay there?” Jonathan’s voice brings her out of her thoughts.

“Sure.” She loops her arm with his, chest a little lighter. “I’ve got you and Steve and all of this.”

He kisses her forehead. Steve wraps an arm around her back, his fingers resting on Jonathan’s waist. They haven’t talked about it. Nancy honestly doesn’t want to. But she meant what she said. She has her people to get her through.

They step into the car. Mike sits in the driver’s seat, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He looks at Will who sits in the passenger seat. “I should teach you how to drive.”

“Now’s a perfect time,” Will drawls. But he smiles. Laces their fingers and squeezes. “I’m here.”

“You are.”

“Not going anywhere.”

“No, you aren’t,” Mike says softly.

Nancy has to look away. She shouldn’t be in this moment, period, but they chose to do it with their older siblings and Steve in the backseat. Why, she doesn’t know. She  _is_  happy that they have this. They deserve each other. They deserve a good love. They deserve everything and more.

Nancy drops a kiss against Steve’s shoulder-blade before nestling her head into the crook of his neck. He looks even more flustered than her.

Jonathan smiles at the interacting, shifting so Steve can rest his head on his shoulder.

The three wait for Mike and Will to stop making heart-eyes each other. They aren’t the only ones.

Dustin honks. He glares from the driver’s seat of the van and waves a hand in front of his face. “Can you two stop looking at each other so we can drive? Are you even talking? Are you just gazing into each other’s eyes?”

“Let us  _have_ this!” Mike shouts.

Dustin’s glare disappears immediately. “We’ve gotta go, man. You’ll have time. I promise.”

A knot twists in Nancy’s chest. They do have time, just not as much as her.

“Nancy?” Jonathan touches her knee. “It’s okay. It’s not, but hold on a little longer.”

“I’m okay.” It’s kind of true. She knows how to be appreciative of the good things, but she is mourning her life for the second time. It’s hard to come back from that. “Are you?”

Mike pulls the car out of the driveway and follows Dustin’s van. His shoulders are rigid and he’s squeezing the steering wheel.

Jonathan smiles sadly. “I can make my peace with it.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Steve grumbles. “This is bullshit. All of it.”

“There’s a way,” Will says for the tenth time.

“No,” Jonathan says. “It’s too dangerous. You would die.”

“So you could, eventually! Worth the risk. Worth  _everything._ ”

“Stop living your life for me. You shouldn’t have—you should’ve let them take me. I would’ve been fine.”

“No, you wouldn’t have! What about Nancy too, huh? I stand by that choice. I stand by this. Let me go with you. It won’t be safe, we won’t know if we can do it, but maybe it’s possible, and that’s all we need!”

It’s a two-hour, but tired argument. Will, saying essentially what Mike said last summer, about a dangerous, almost mythical alternative to the cure. Something no one’s done before. Something he says could be possible.

“Look, Kali says—”

“Has Kali been cured by this life-threatening,  _alleged_ cure!?”

“No, but neither have you, so you don’t know if—”

“You could die!” Jonathan’s voice breaks. Nancy and Steve rub his back at the same time.

The thing is that Nancy and Jonathan couldn’t go alone. The only person who had any idea of what to do was Will. Will, with his connections, with his years on the run, hopping from place to place the way they would, because apparently, supernatural creatures don’t like other creatures wanting to cure themselves and in case Brenner’s people would come for them. Will, who also, apparently, but also unsurprisingly, knew a great deal of magic. Nancy didn’t really believe him when he said it, only to remind herself that she’s been seventeen for almost four decades. Nothing was too made-up, was it?

Will the Wise, Mike had said, making the kids laugh.

Will claimed it wasn’t anything really, which meant it was a big deal, which also meant that he certainly couldn’t risk himself.

Mike clears his throat. “Do you guys plan on having the same argument for the entire drive?”

Will rolls his eyes. “Jonathan’s points are all the same. It’s too dangerous. I can help you. Let me help you.”

“You’ve done enough of that,” Jonathan says quietly. “You deserve your life.”

“I don’t have a life if you’re not in it.” Will sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “Nancy? What do you think?”

“Ask me in Hawkins.” Truthfully, she didn’t know what she thought. This plan barely sounds like a plan. It was a wild goose chase, starting somewhere in Europe, a location Will refused to disclose as of yet to be, in his words, safe. Will said they’d figure it out from there. He gave no other details, which made Jonathan more skeptical.

Would trying be worth it if Will died? Would she regret it if she didn’t do it?

She didn’t know. She was tired.

So she closes her eyes, snuggles further into Steve’s side, and drifts off.

.

.

.

She wakes up a few times. Jonathan and Will haven’t stopped talking about it.

“What if Nancy wants to?” Will demands.

She hasn’t opened her eyes yet. She freezes in Steve’s grasp. He’s also fallen asleep, drooling on Jonathan’s thigh.

“If she does … I can’t say no to that. But Will, I—”

“You can’t protect me from this. You died for me, remember? I know, I know, I don’t owe you anything, but if I die for you, then we’re even.”

“Will.”

“I’m not joking. I won’t die, but if I do, then at least I went out for the most important person in my life. Nancy won’t tell you she wants this if you’re dead-set against it. You have to know that. Deep-down, you want this too. Just talk about it with her, okay? There’s no rush, but, God, this could take a few years. Won’t matter much to me or you, but Steve … think about it.”

“I just want you to be okay. You’re my baby brother, you’ve been my  _world_ since you came into it.”

“I know. Trust me, I know. Jonathan, you’re my best friend, and if you think spending the next couple of years, fighting by your side, with  _you,_ and Nancy, isn’t something that I want to do wholeheartedly, isn’t something that, c’mon, would be a _little_ fun, then—wow. You are as lame as I remember.”

Jonathan laughs. “Rude.”

“Talk to Nancy,” Will repeats. “And think about it. We all deserve a life, and I think this is how we get ours back.”

.

.

.

Karen and Joyce are waiting for them in front of the Wheeler household.

Nancy leaps out of the car and into her mother’s arms. She sobs as soon as Karen strokes her hair and coos words of comfort in her ear, but doesn’t shake. Someone must have called. Someone must have told them.

Joyce lights up as both her boys come running to her. Will sweeps her into a hug, swinging her around until she laughs, slapping at his back to put her down. Jonathan hugs her and doesn’t let go for some time.

Tea and coffee waits for them inside.

Everyone rushes in. Steve helps Murray through the front door, which translates to glaring at Murray so he’ll use his cane.

Jonathan’s pulls her aside by the front door before she can step inside. “Hey. Can we talk?”

“Do you want to do it?” She presses her hand against his chest. Where his heart should be beating. She imagines what it would feel like against her palm. Then what it would sound like. Though, she’d only be able to hear it with her ear against his chest in that scenario. The mere thought sends a rush down her spine, filling her with warmth and a terrible longing.

Jonathan covers the hand she has on his chest with his own. “Of course,” he says softly. “But I’m scared.”

“Me too. But look at this.” She gestures to the window showcasing the kitchen. Holly smacks Karen’s hand away as Karen looks for a bruise, reminding her that Nancy would have healed her anyway. Mike passes a Spider-man mug to Dustin, smiling at something Dustin’s saying. Lucas tosses a cookie at Max and nearly cries out when it looks like it’ll touch the floor. It doesn’t. Jane’s slight smirk follows shortly. Steve impatiently explains that if Murray doesn’t use his cane, Nancy and Jonathan will be upset. Joyce watches Murray with a bemused expression. She ruffles Steve’s hair and agrees with him.

“It’s worth the risk, isn’t it?”

Jonathan nods. His eyes glisten in the moonlight, so Nancy wipes them lightly.

She forces herself to smile. “It’s okay if you don’t want—”

“No. I mean, no, don’t say that. I want it. I want our future. I want to try. We’ve saved lots of people, but I think. I think it’s time to save ourselves, right?”

Nancy smiles through her tears. She slides her arms around his shoulders. Leans her forehead against his. “I’m going to feel your heartbeat one day.”

Jonathan laughs, making her giggle. “I’m going to feel your breath on my face one day.”

“We’re going to grow old. We’re going to die of old age.”

“After living with all of them. Steve, too.”

They look in the kitchen at the same time. Steve’s listening intently to Murray talk about aliens, sipping tea with wide, earnest eyes.

After a moment, Nancy says, “He’s going to want to come.”

“I know.”

“That can’t happen.”

A beat. “I know.”

“How mad do you think he’ll be?” Nancy asks.

“He loves us too much, so I don’t know. We’ll come back to him. We’ll come back home.”

She swallows past the lump in her throat. Pulling Jonathan closer by the waist, she rests her head against his chest. “I know. We’re just gonna be gone for awhile.”

Jonathan sighs. He pets her hair and she hugs his chest. “I know.”

.

.

.

They agree to wait to tell Steve. There’s just something nice in the air, what with everyone they love squeezed into one room. They want to hold onto it for a little longer.

“You’ve got great kids,” Murray says through a mouthful of spaghetti.

Karen looks disgusted. Joyce mostly looks amused. They meet each other’s gazes across the dining table and laugh.

Steve burps. “Whoops. My bad.”

Jonathan pats Steve’s back. “Baby need to be burped?”

Steve rolls his eyes and kisses Jonathan’s jaw. “Baby needs you to shut up.”

“Cute.” Max folds her hands together and grins.

“And also a fact that Steve is a baby,” Lucas adds.

A round of laughter passes. Steve raises his head and whines, “Am not!”

Nancy’s midway through a chuckle when her eyes zero in on the calendar hung on the wall. The mug in her hand nearly slips. “Holy shit! You have school tomorrow!”

More laughter. Steve nearly falls out of his chair. “Fuck, I do! Well. I’m not going.”

She narrows her eyes. Sitting to Jonathan’s right, all she can do is glare at him. “It’s your senior year.”

“And?”

Mike pushes his hair out of his face. He ignores Karen’s pointed huff, like he’s done with all her complaints about his hair. “Dude. Go to school. You’ll miss it when it’s over.”

“It’s not over now, so—”

“I’m so tired,” Mike groans. “I don’t want kids.”

“You don’t?” Will says, right as Steve exclaims, “I’m not your son!”

Mike sits up, weary as he blinks rapidly at Will on his left, then at Steve in front of him. “I mean—not opposed—adoption—children— _Will_ —”

Will laughs, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Dude, you broke him,” Lucas snorts. “Do it again.”

“No, he will not do it again,” Mike says firmly. So of course everyone chants BREAK MIKE and bangs their fists on the table. Even Karen and Joyce join in, Joyce not as serious as Karen.

Will’s laughing so hard that his face is red. He raises a hand, shutting everyone up instantly. “I’m not breaking him. You guys are monsters.”

“Yeah.” Jane grins. “We are.”

“Nooooo, you’re too cute,” Joyce says. She stabs her fork into a meatball.

“Adorable monsters, then,” Will amends. He glows when Joyce chuckles, absentmindedly picking at his broccoli.

Holly stirs distantly from the living room sofa. “Everyone keep it down,” Jonathan says before Nancy can. “Holly’s still asleep.”

“Not all of us have super-hearing,” Will teases. “She won’t hear us.”

“She won’t have to, considering how loud you all are,” Nancy says before she can help herself. For whatever reason, she blushes when Will’s grin widens and reveals his dimples.

“I am not loud,” Will protests.

“You are, a little,” Jane says. “What? Who said it was a bad thing?”

Will laughs again. “Nancy! Clearly Nancy!”

Steve shrugs. Nancy groans, because he always gets this casual look on his face when he says something embarrassing, especially in front of her siblings. “Nancy’s like that. She claimed that she hated my cologne, but—”

Steve squeaks as Nancy jumps out of her chair to clap a hand over his mouth. “Do not. Tell them. The story.”

“So Nancy pretty much—”

She slaps her hand over Jonathan’s mouth too. “Traitor.” Despite not being able to see his mouth, she can tell he’s smiling, his eyes lighting up in the familiar way that always pulls a smile out of her.

Everyone stares. Murray’s the one who says, “So what the fuck was the story?”

“Up yours,” she scoffs.

“Nancy!” Karen shakes her head disapprovingly. “He’s a guest.”

“Are you—what!? No! He’s not!”

“So Brenner’s a guest …” Dustin trails off. “But Murray isn’t?”

Murray’s fork clatters onto his plate. “You said what about that fuckwad? Nancy. I raised you.”

Karen scowls. “No, you didn’t.”

“I watched you grow—”

“Not really,” Mike says.

“I have lived with you for almost forty years.”

“Technically,” Nancy says.

Murray takes the win. He smiles proudly, before loudly continuing, “And yet the guy who’s tried killing you and your family is a guest and I’m not!?”

Nancy is so irritated that she removes her hands off of Steve and Jonathan’s mouths to point at Murray. “Listen, asshole. Forgive me for not knowing how to refer to our kidnapper turned hostage. And, y’know, there’s the whole thing about how you’re not a guest. You never could be. You’re family.”

Murray’s face does something weird. He’s not quite smiling, not quite frowning, looking at Nancy like he’s confused. She’s never seen him look like he didn’t understand something at all. He lowers his glasses down his nose. “Are you serious?”

“He knew that the key to us was you,” Jonathan says softly. “He was right about that one thing, at least.”

She and Murray don’t hug. That’s not the relationship they have. But Murray smiles, genuine and soft, and Nancy doesn’t call him an asshole. Just smiles back.

Jonathan stands up and hugs him, because that’s the kind of relationship  _they_  have.

Joyce hides her face in Karen’s shoulder. Nancy catches her smile.

Steve looks at Nancy with a really big grin, waits a few seconds, and delves into the story. She’s too happy to care.

It’s not bad. Steve basically spilled a bunch of his cologne that Nancy claimed she hated on his denim jacket. She wore it for a week, the scent somehow not irritating her nose. It reminded her so much of Steve, so it couldn’t possibly bother her.

The kids laugh. Karen and Joyce coo. Murray calls her a big old softie.

She denies Murray’s claim, but then Jonathan kisses the scar on her hand. She visibly melts, and, well, she could never hide how stupidly giddy her boys make her.

It’s only five in the afternoon, but everyone drifts off to various parts of the house to nap. No one wants to go home, probably because they’re too exhausted, but Nancy likes the domesticity behind it. Even if they’re not spending time talking or doing things together, they still want to be in the same house, still want to do the simple things like make each other coffee and nap in in the same area.

Nancy obviously gets her childhood room. Steve runs up the stairs, exclaiming that he’s never seen her room before.

“It’s pink,” he observes.

Jonathan closes the door behind him. “And you’re wonderful.”

Steve looks over his shoulder to smile fondly at Jonathan. “Stop being cute.”

“It’s impossible,” Nancy says before Jonathan can scoff. She hugs him from behind, tucking her head into the space between his shoulder and neck.

He makes a pleased noise and pulls her arms closer.

“C’mere,” Steve says in a way that Nancy knows is him trying hard not to whine. The kids teased the hell out of him earlier for doing it. “Are you two okay? No bullshit.”

“No bullshit,” she says, “I honestly don’t even know what you’re asking about. Being kidnapped? The fire? Brenner killing himself?”

Despite asking them to come over, Steve crosses the space between them. He wraps his arms around Nancy and cups Jonathan’s face. They’re in an awkward sandwich, except it’s the most comfortable she’s ever been. “Yes to all of that. I just—I don’t know. You’re not alone. You’re safe now.”

They agreed to talk about it later, so of course she blurts out, “We have to tell him!”

“Tell me what?”

Jonathan tenses. “Let’s sit?”

They sit in a triangle on Nancy’s bed. Knees brushing against knees. She leaves her hand on Steve’s knee and tries to ignore how unsettled she feels.

“You’ve probably heard me arguing with Will,” Jonathan says.

Steve chuckles. “Kind of hard to miss it. What’s up? Are you—I mean, I’m sorry for not talking about it, I just—”

“That’s not what this is.” Nancy laces their fingers. “We talked about it. Will’s offer.”

Steve holds his breath. He looks like the wind’s been knocked out of him, mouth parting, gaze darting back and forth between Nancy and Jonathan. “Yeah? And?”

She forces the words out. “We’re going. I don’t know when. I don’t know much. We haven’t even told Will, but yeah.”

His face splits into a grin. “That’s—oh my God, that’s amazing. It’s going to work, I know it, I have a good feeling, and it’ll be, I mean, not fun, but it won’t be bad, so—you’re looking at me like. Like something bad happened. What am I missing?”

“Well …”

Nancy squeezes Jonathan’s hand. She can do this for them. “You know you can’t come with us, right?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “But—”

“No.”

“Nancy.”

“Steve.”

He recoils, staring at her like he doesn’t recognize her, before snapping his head to look at Jonathan. “What about you, then? You agree with her?” He sets his jaw like he’s trying hard not to cry.

She reaches out to cup Steve’s jaw. He doesn’t lean in, but he doesn’t lean back either, so it could be worse. It could be much worse.

Jonathan’s chin wobbles. “I love you.”

“Don’t fucking say that if you’re going to—”

“Going to what? This isn’t a break-up,” Jonathan says carefully. He tucks a stray hair away from Steve’s forehead and kisses the spot, the touch light. “You need to be safe.”

“I need—need to be with you.”

Nancy’s throat turns dry. She swallows back her tears and impulsively lays on top of Steve. Steve makes a surprised sound, but doesn’t fight it, melting underneath her. “Don’t be mad at us.”

“I want to  _help_  you.” The first tear rolls down his cheek. The ache where she was staked pulses.

Jonathan scoots closer to Steve and Nancy. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay.”

“Just let me come. Please.”

“No. This isn’t up for discussion,” she says firmly. “We’re not disrupting your life.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come into it anyways if you were just going to—”

“Hey.” Nancy tears away from Steve and sits up. She flinches and tries hard not to cry. “You’re the one who said it didn’t matter if it was temporary. We’re going after our shot at it being permanent and now you’re pulling this shit?”

Steve scowls. “Well, if we’re comparing contradictions, you fucking said that you wouldn’t leave before going into—”

Now it’s her turn to recoil. “That’s different, you can’t—”

“That was different too!”

Jonathan winces. “Guys, please stop—”

“We want you to be safe,” she grits out. “Do you think I want to leave you? Do you—do you think you’re the only person we’re leaving? I have to leave my family. I just got to really know the kids. Callie’s—she’s going to forget me. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to die. But I want to live, and I want to do with it you. Unless you’re going to continue being a dick.”

Steve’s face crumples. He sits up slowly, reaching out to touch her only to quickly pull his hands back. “Nance, I …”

“Whatever. I don’t—I’ll be back.” She speeds out of the room, to the bottom of the stairway. As an afterthought, she mutters, “Just stay with Steve, I’m fine,” to Jonathan.

She turns the corner and bumps right into Joyce. “Oh, honey, my—Nancy, are you alright?”

“Yes.” Nancy sniffs. She can barely see through the red in her eyes. “No? I don’t. I’m not. I’m tired.”

Joyce smiles sadly. Gently, she wraps an arm around Nancy’s shoulders and guides her to the front porch. It’s sunnier than usual. The sun shines on her, and it feels all wrong.

They watch the sky for a few minutes in a comfortable silence until Joyce asks, “You want to talk about it?”

“No.” Nancy hugs her arms around her chest. “I’m just exhausted from this fighting and leaving the people I love.”

Joyce’s breathing momentarily stops. She grips onto the small railway for the steps up the front porch, the floorboards creaking. “You’ve decided?”

She blinks, confused, until it hits her. She gasps and covers her mouth. “I shouldn’t have told you, I’m sorry. I know you just got Will back, and Jonathan full-time, but—”

“I’m fine.”

Nancy snorts. “Now who’s lying?” She hugs Joyce and nearly cries again when Joyce squeezes her, not hard enough that it’s uncomfortable, but hard enough that she can feel the determined sort of love that only mothers have.

It’s not like Nancy’s own mother isn’t enough. Nancy loves her, even if she makes strange criticisms about Nancy’s hair, and won’t let Nancy swear in front of her. She loves her, not because she has to, but because she could have demanded that Nancy explain what happened to her, she could have forced Nancy to see her father and her siblings, and she could have hated Jonathan for this all, but she didn’t. Not once.

She loves her mother. It’s just that Joyce has given her an ease that Karen never could.

But she can have two moms.

“I’m sorry for stealing your sons.” Nancy curses herself because why on  _earth_  would she phrase it like that, sniffing into Joyce’s shoulder.

Joyce laughs wetly. “You’ve kept my eldest alive for years.”

“Jonathan is strong. He’s taken care of himself for years,” she says defensively. She isn’t sure why. Joyce understands, almost as much as Nancy, how capable Jonathan’s always been.

Joyce pulls away and squeezes Nancy’s shoulder. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” The sun catching Joyce’s face makes it easier for Nancy to say, “You know I love you, right?”

Joyce smiles. It makes her face even brighter. “Of course.”

“Like I admire you. I always have.”

Joyce looks taken aback for a brief moment. She rubs a hand up and down Nancy’s arm, beaming. “Is it too cheesy to say you’re the daughter I never had?”

Nancy’s still heart warms. “No, it isn’t.”

Joyce’s mouth opens with a response when the door creaks behind Nancy.

She whirls around and doesn’t really know why she’s surprised to see Steve. It might just be the bouquet of flowers in his hands. “Did you steal those from my mom?”

Dirt drips from the bottom of the fresh roots of the flowers. “Yes.” Steve grips onto the flowers tighter. “Sorry? Should I have asked earlier?”

Nancy laughs. She’s annoyed by it instantly, because she’s supposed to be  _mad_  at him.

Joyce wordlessly, smiling at them both and clapping Steve’s back on her way inside.

Steve clears his throat. “Let’s sit?”

They sit on the front steps and watch the streets. A car drives by every fifteen seconds, slowly, no one in a hurry. The sun is still out, casting a golden light on Nancy’s legs. She can’t feel it. She touches her ankle, waiting for heat for some reason, and is inevitably disappointed.

“Do you want me to thank you for taking my mom’s flowers? She doesn’t mean to sound petty, but their argument wasn’t even an hour ago. Staring at her fingers, she lets out a sigh. It’s still not fair. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I, uh. Shouldn’t have said any of that. It was mean. It wasn’t fair.”

“Yeah,” she says quietly, staring at her hands. “It wasn’t.”

“So I’m sorry. But I wanted ... okay, no, no excuses. I don’t want to make this anymore difficult.”

“Okay.”

“You’re still mad.”

“No.” She forces herself to look up at Steve. Her face softens. “I’m really not.”

Steve’s lips curve into a faint smile. “Don’t believe you.”

She smiles back, despite not understanding why. “Why?”

His mouth twitches in an attempt to keep his face neutral. It doesn’t work. He shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. “You’re not doing things you normally would.”

She grins. She wants to make him say it, but she already cannot stand the distance between them, despite their legs touching, so she gives in and combs her fingers through his hair. She’s pretty sure the act gives them both the same amount of relief and comfort. “You’re an actual baby.”

Steve chuckles, the sound scratchy. “So I’ve been told.”

She likes the lightness between them, but she has to break it. “You still want to come?”

“Of course.” He tenses, swallowing hard. “But I mean ... neither of you want me to.”

“But you understand why?”

“Yes,” he mumbles, scratching at the seat underneath him. He stares at the grass on the front lawn. “I still don’t like it.”

“I know.”

“I still want to be with you.”

“So do we.” She caresses the back of his head, tilting his head so he has to meet her eyes again. “We meant what we said in the car ride. Tell me you believe me.”

Steve leans down and rests his head on her shoulder. “I believe you.” He kisses her shoulder-blade, mouth soft against her skin. “I would believe you if you said gravity didn’t exist.”

“Just believe that we love you,” Nancy says, her heart so overwhelmed that she could cry. She slants her head against his. “That’s all I need.”

He hums. “I’m really sorry. I hope you know that.”

“I do. I’m sorry for yelling, for—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

They move in at the same time for a kiss. She notices it then and laughs against his mouth.

“What?” Steve smiles tentatively.

“Jonathan’s on the other side of the door.”

“NOT THE ENTIRE TIME! I RESPECT YOUR PRIVACY! I would’ve been able to hear from anywhere in the house. I’m s—”

“You guys gotta stop apologizing” Steve says. “Dude. Come here. I miss you.”

“You saw me ten minutes ago.”

“And?”

Nancy laughs again. Her heart expands at the sight of Jonathan sheepishly walking out of the front door. He scratches the back of his head and grins at them. “Hi. You two good?”

“As if you don’t already know,” she says playfully. She drops her head onto Jonathan’s shoulder the second he’s seated next to her.

They sit in a comfortable silence for awhile. Jonathan wraps his arm around both their backs. Nancy strokes Steve’s hair with her leg swung over Jonathan’s lap. Steve lays in their laps and yawns every few minutes. He’s going to be so fucked when he goes to school tomorrow.

He’s  _definitely_  going.

The door creaks. "Hey—whoa. Everything okay?”

No one turns around. “Until you came in,” Nancy says without any heat. “Everything okay, Mike? Or you just missed me?”

“The day I miss you is the day that hell freezes over,” Mike says, also without heat.

They both know he’s full of crap. “Come sit,” she says. “We’re—doing what, exactly?”

“Watching the sunset,” Jonathan says.

“Shit. People  _do_  do that. We’re doing that. What the fuck.” Steve yawns again. “Hi, Mike.”

“Hi, Steve.” Mike sounds amused as he steps forward, but doesn’t sit.

Nancy looks over her shoulder at Mike. She rolls her eyes. “Why are you squatting?”

Mike shrugs, squinting at the sky. “Why aren’t you?”

She just elbows him carefully, not wanting to disrupt the comfort that she, Jonathan, and Steve have made for themselves. “Everyone still asleep?”

“Starting to wake up. Lucas and Dustin are waiting to shower. Jane’s going to hog all your hot water.”

“’S fine,” Steve says.

Jonathan chuckles. “He wasn’t talking to you. You don’t live here.”

“Neither does Nance. Or Mike,” Steve points out, his voice muffled from speaking into Nancy’s thigh.

Mike and Nancy stare at each other. “Good luck, mom,” they say at the same time, breaking into laughter.

“We should get something to eat,” Jonathan suggests. “Ice cream?”

That’s how they end up at Don’s an hour later. Karen and Joyce are fast-asleep in Karen’s room. No one can bear to wake them up, so they don’t.

Nancy unwittingly offers to help Murray into the car. For all her insisting that he use a cane, she finds it ironic how badly she wants to push him into the pavement.

“I’ve got it.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m fine,” he snaps, waving a wrinkled hand at her.

“I’ll kill you,” she says calmly.

Murray grins and, even more irritatingly, stops half-way between the front door to Mike’s car. “No, you won’t. I’m family.”

“You did this to yourself,” Jonathan sings, appearing at Murray’s other side. “Give me your hand.”

“Thank you,” Nancy and Murray say at the same time. She skips towards the car and blinks to ensure that she’s not hallucinating. “You’re not driving.”

Will makes an offended noise. “I’m a good driver!”

“You’re not a driver, period,” Nancy says. “I don’t want you to kill my boyfriend and ... father figure. And my brother. Or you!”

“I don’t want to kill your brother, your boyfriend, or—”

She leans into the car window and smirks. “Is that how you see him?”

“Do you want me to see Steve as a son? Awkward considering he already has parents, Mike, Dustin, Steve, Max—”

“I’ve got the idea,” she interrupts, undeniably giddy. Steve does have them. It’s a nice thought; even nicer when she thinks about how he won’t be as lonely when they leave, whenever that is. He’ll still have them, his family. “And you know what I meant.”

“I really don’t,” Will says innocently. Curse those Bambi eyes.

Eventually, after Jonathan gets Murray safely into the car, they set off to Don’s.

As soon as the familiar bell chimes above their heads with the door opening, Dustin whistles. “Finally.”

“Blame him.” Nancy cants her head to Murray as he slaps her outstretched hand away. She scowls.

“I’m using the stupid fucking cane you got me.”

“Murray, the children,” Jonathan sighs. He gives an apologetic look to a mother walking out with her toddler, pulling Murray’s chair out for him.

“Sorry, Steve,” Murray says.

“I’m almost eighteen,” Steve grumbles. Nancy rises to her tiptoes to kiss at his blush.

They push three tables together, but even then, their knees and feet keep bumping, and Lucas is kind of breathing over Nancy’s shoulder. But she’s fine like this. They spent half a day cramped in a van together. No one killed each other.

“Elbow me one more mother-fucking time and you’re losing that arm,” Max seethes at Mike.

On second thought.

“Mike, stop elbowing her!” Will snaps.

Mike pulls his arm away from Max and turns his chair to face Will. “What’s really wrong? No one will recognize you. Nancy or Jonathan can take you out of here if necessary. Don’t worry. They haven’t seen you in years.”

“You look nothing like him,” Jonathan adds.

(Later, Nancy tells Steve that Jonathan meant their father.)

Dustin rubs Will’s shoulder. Mike strokes Will’s hair. “Thanks,” Will says shakily. “I just. Dunno what I’d say.”

“Have you thought about it? I mean—no rush—but what’s the next step here?” Jane asks, licking a drop of ice cream from her mouth.

Will looks from Jonathan to Nancy. “Depends on them. No pressure!”

Nancy looks at Jonathan. She places her half-empty container of ice-cream on the table, licking her lips. “Well. We’ve decided.” She nearly covers her ears at the drastic change in everyone’s hearts. Well, everyone except for Steve, who squeezes their hands underneath the table.

“We want to go with you,” Jonathan says.

She waits for the screaming, the yelling, the applause, for the noise that will make her head pound. It doesn’t follow. At first, she’s horrified that they’re horrified. Or mad. Or upset.

But they’re all beaming, speechless with joy.

Except for Mike. Mike isn’t smiling, but his eyes shine determinedly as he drops his spoon into his container. “I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not,” Nancy says automatically. “Are you joking?”

“Because this is the time to make a joke.”

“I’m serious!” Nancy isn’t aware that she’s standing up until Mike stands up with her.

He grips the edge of the table, glancing at the other oblivious customers. He lowers his face, but hisses as fiercely, “So am I!”

“You’re not going.” Her voice doesn’t shake; she’s proud of herself for it. “End of discussion.”

“I can handle myself!” Mike insists.

“This is different,” She stresses, her legs threatening to give out. “No.  _No._ I’m letting this happen.”

“Nancy—”

She knows she’s being ridiculous, but she doesn’t care, overwhelmed as she turns on her heel and storms out of the shop. What does Mike think this is? This isn’t going to New Jersey to rescue someone. This is monsters and trusting old deities and God knows what else. This is them not knowing when they’ll ever step back in Hawkins, if they ever will.

This is them walking into the darkness without so much as a flashlight.

She hears Mike push the door open and race after her. “Go inside,” she pleads, pacing the sidewalk in front of the store and tugging frantically on her hair.

Mike rushes forward until only a foot separates them. The determination in his eyes hasn’t wavered. “Can we at least talk about it?”

So they sit on the hood of Mike’s car, feet pressed together. He tips his half-empty container towards her.

“You brought your ice-cream with you?” She swallows a mouthful of his moose-track ice cream. “Thanks.”

He rolls his eyes, but forcefully pushes the ice cream back to her when she tries returning it. “I’m not hungry anyway.” He hugs his knees to his chest. “Have I told you I love you?”

“I know it—”

“I knew I hadn’t when you disappeared.”

She knows he’s not going to yell at her, knows he doesn’t blame her for leaving, but still can’t help the pain that splices through her at the thought of all those years he spent without his sister and best friend. He was just a kid.

They all were.

She’s about to interject, but decides against it. He needs to speak again. If he needs to pause to collect his thoughts, then she’ll wait.

Mike twirls a strand of his hair between his fingertips. “I mean, I probably did, but I was younger, a toddler. Doesn’t count. It’s not the same. I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. For awhile, I was pissed, sure. I thought you left. I thought you—thought you left me. But, and I dunno know why I was so sure about it, after a few months, I was convinced that something happened. You wouldn’t leave like that. Not after Barbra, not after Will ... we weren’t close, but I knew you loved me. I knew, but did you know that I loved you?”

Mike doesn’t wipe his cheeks, so she does it for him. “Always. I always did. As well as I knew that I loved you too.”

When she cups his face, he closes his eyes, peace easing his features. “I just,” he sniffs, opening his eyes, “I thought you deserved to hear it. I would’ve fought  _with_  you. If we had—if we’d just talked, if we had that kind of relationship then, the kind we have now, would things be different? It doesn’t matter, not really, but it could’ve been.” He exhales deeply. Buries his face in his hands. “Don’t get mad at me for saying this next thing.”

“No promises,” she says, not meaning it. “Go on.”

He meets her eyes and smiles weakly. “You don’t let us help you.”

“I—I let you come to New Jersey!”

“You refused at first. You didn’t let us go into the house.”

“You would’ve been killed.”

“We went in anyway and weren’t killed.”

“I ... I don’t know what to say,” she admits. “I can’t let anyone else get hurt. If I can do something, then I have to.”

Mike tips his chin towards the sky. “You think she’s really up there, mad at you for, what, not helping her in time? When you wouldn’t have been able to anyway? When you died trying to?”

Nancy’s chest constricts at the mention of Barb. “I don’t know. I mean, no, of course not, but I can’t turn the guilt off. I can’t not hate myself for it, at least not a little bit. I’ve spent years thinking this, I can’t just—”

“Hey, hey,” he soothes, rubbing his thumb over her hand. “No one’s expecting you to get over all the shit that came with losing her. But you’ll get there.”

“When?” The word is wrapped in a sob, her voice cracking. “It’s been forever.”

“Maybe it’s a vampire thing.”

“Are you going to explain that? We don’t have sibling intuition. You should know this.”

“Like—like, you thought you had forever, you thought you didn’t deserve it since she was dead or whatever, so it was like, of course that trauma would never heal. You really thought you were a monster, so you accepted it without question. You never let yourself feel grieve  _for_  yourself.”

She takes his words in. “You could be a therapist. That was good.”

He laughs and kicks her foot lightly. “You can do it. I believe in you. I always have. Let me be there for you, Nancy. Please. I’ve spent so much of my life looking and waiting for you and Will. You two leave, and what, you think I can last even a day without you? No way. Besides, I’m not a kid anymore. I know what I’m doing.”

She thinks back to Mike in the lab, with his gun and fist. “You really do.” She looks at her baby brother and really looks at him. He’s grown so much from the scrawny twelve year-old she remembered. He’s still got his sharp kindness and relentless, enduring heart, beating and beating after he lost nearly everything.

She wants to ask him if he’s sure, but there’s no point. Of course he is. There isn’t anything to do, but say, “Okay”, and hug him with everything she has. So that’s exactly what she does. “I love you. Thank you.”

“I didn’t have to think about it. When it comes to you, I’d never have to.”

That’s what you do, right? You walk into the darkness for the people you love, and if you’re lucky, you do it with them, too.

.

.

.

They shortly walk back into Don’s. Everyone’s relaxed, because Jonathan already explained how their conversation went, awkwardly and with a lot of hesitation.

“Were you listening? Aside from the end?” Nancy murmurs, sitting back to Jonathan’s left. “Not that I mind.”

“No,” he says. “I wouldn’t. So is he coming?”

She nods. “Is that—”

“You don’t have to ask. Of course it is.”

There’s cheering and more ice-cream. Will buys another two scoops of coffee-flavoured ice cream and smiles when he sees that Steve’s done the same. “That’s my favourite.”

Steve grins, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I know! Jonathan told me. It’s the best, isn’t it?”

That feels like a million years ago. Sitting in Don’s, across from Steve, trying not to slip back into their old lives in front of him. Butterflies in her stomach. Joy in her heart. A new beginning waiting for her, made by her.

Watching Mike and Holly flick nuts at each other, the rest of the kids cheering Holly with Steve as Mike’s only supporter, she muses about how she had no idea how full her life would get.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jonathan follows her line of vision and smiles.

“I’m so happy. It’s like my heart is going to burst.”

He kisses her cheek. She sighs contently, raising her chin to kiss the corner of his mouth in return. “We’re going to get this back.”

Nancy forcibly lifts her chest and lowers it. Motions the act of breathing. One day, she will do this and feel the air fill her lungs. She will touch her pulse and feel her heartbeat. She will run, and it will burn in the best way possible.

She’ll be alive, in more than just feeling.

.

.

.

“You have to tell mom with us!”

Holly stares at Mike. “No. I don’t.”

“Give us Callie,” Nancy says. “She won’t yell with Callie around.”

Holly narrows her eyes at her older siblings like they’re idiots, which is fair. “Fine. I’ll do it and let you use my daughter to manipulate our mother.”

Mike grins. He bursts into a sprint, jumping unnecessarily over a potted-plant near the stairway to get to the living room. “I’ll get her! Love you, sis!”

Nancy and Holly roll their eyes in unison. “I would still go with you two,” Holly says, touching Nancy’s elbow. “If you wanted.”

“I appreciate it, but you have a daughter. And a town that needs you more. Keep everyone in this stupid place safe. Take care of Callie. She needs you.”

Holly looks conflicted, but doesn’t press. She smiles at Nancy and blinks away the moisture in her eyes. “I just got to know you. I can’t lose you.”

Nancy throws her arms around Holly and holds her tightly, fiercely. “You won’t. I swear, you won’t.”

Holly loosens in her grasp, only for Mike to run back in with Callie raised in his arms, making her tense up. “DO NOT DROP MY DAUGHTER!”

“I’m not!” Mike raises Callie higher into the air, making her giggle. “Let’s go! Gotta break some awful news to grandma!”

That only makes Callie laugh harder.

Nancy and Holly walk into the kitchen, trailing behind Mike. They find Karen pretending to chase Callie around the dining table, Mike catching his breath by the kitchen counter.

“My granddaughter is going to the Olympics!” Is Karen joking? Probably not.

“Mom,” Nancy says. “Can we talk?”

Sitting at the dining table with Callie walking around them isn’t awkward, but it isn’t exactly comfortable.

“So.” Nancy fidgets with her fingers, but doesn’t break eye contact with Karen.

Karen narrows her eyes. Flicks her gaze from each of her children. Points a long, manicured finger at them. “What did you three do? If you get caught for that fire—”

“Mom,” Holly interrupts. “Let her speak.”

Karen softens. “Sorry, honey. Go on.”

Nancy explains as carefully as she can. She stares at Karen’s hands that clutch onto the edge of the table. No one speaks over her. It’s quiet, save for Callie’s footsteps.

“Holly will stay, obviously. But yeah. Mike and I are going. Are you—I mean, what do you think?”

“Okay,” Karen says.

Mike, Nancy, and Holly gape at their mother. “Okay?” Nancy repeats, bewildered. “ _Okay_?”

“I wanted to get a tattoo on my wrist and you said that it would be like personally attacking you,” Mike practically sneers. “But now that we’re venturing off into the unknown, you’re cool!?”

Karen laughs shakily. “You think I’m cool with this? No! Obviously not! But I want Nancy to live her life, and if you’re with each other, then—okay. Fine. I trust you. Call me everyday.”

Mike and Nancy eye each other. “About that,” he says.

“WHAT!?”

“Brenner could still be after us,” Nancy splutters, unable to maintain her composure at the sound of Karen’s booming heartbeat.  “And apparently, shockingly, this isn’t safe, and people could be after us for even—”

“I’ll be after you if you don’t call me!”

"Mom, it’s okay,” Holly says. “You lost Nancy once, but she came back to you. She’ll do it again.”

It’s the perfect thing to say, because Karen nods through her tears, the red in her face draining. “You better come back to me.” Her tone borders on threatening. Nancy loves her for it. “Both of you.”

“Yes, mom,” Mike says, smiling wetly. “We’ll be okay. I promise. We’re surprisingly a good team.”

“Even more surprising considering Mike’s hair is always in his face. How does he fight if he can’t see?” Holly leans forward to dishevel Mike’s hair.

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t swat her hand away.

“We need to group-hug,” Nancy announces.

“Ooh, yes! We do!” Karen stands and pushes her chair back. She opens her arms and waits for her children.

Mike scrunches his face up. “You’re not supposed to say it. The moment just leads to it.”

“Why do you hate joy?” Holly shakes her head at him.

Nancy crosses her arms and raises her chin. “Well, I said it, and I don’t care if you hug back or not.” What a lie.

Nancy and Holly melt in Karen’s arms. Mike pretends to huff as he wraps his arms around them. Callie grabs the back of Nancy’s leg, worming her way in between her family, as the Wheeler’s cling onto each other.

Nancy kind of agrees with Mike. Most families probably don’t need to demand group-hugs to have one. Most families would’ve had one by now, too.

But this is what she’s got. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

.

.

.

The next day is so bizarrely mundane that Nancy is unsettled.

Nancy, Will, and Jonathan stay with Joyce; Murray is with Mike, because there wasn’t enough space in the Byers’ home, and the couch wouldn’t be good for his back. It works out fine since Mike, weirdly enough, admires him, but Nancy doesn’t mind. It’s kind of sweet.

She’s not bored. It’s just really weird. Murray was kidnapped, then she and Jonathan were kidnapped, held in captivity for days, all leading up to the lab being burned down by Brenner himself, right before he killed himself. Now, they’re leaving, date to be decided, to get a cure and possibly die trying to live. And Nancy’s out in the backyard, watering Karen’s garden.

In the afternoon, Nancy, Jonathan, and Will go over to Mike’s place. Karen and Joyce have book-club. Murray wanted to attend, and both women were thrilled at the prospect. Naturally, Mike, Will, Jonathan, and Nancy cannot wait to hear the details of how that went.

It’s nice, sitting in his living room, laying in one big heap on the floor. They tried playing board games, but Will yawned, making everyone yawn, so they gave up.

“This is how it’ll be for the next ... for some time now,” Nancy says. “The four of us. Hanging out.”

“Can you call it hanging out if we’re making a cure?” Will asks.

“Wait, wait, wait, we’re making this? What?” Mike raises his head from the floor to gawk at Will.

“There are ingredients,” Will says. “I’m not explaining it. It’s going to take too long and you won’t get it the way I do. No offence.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius, we know,” Mike says, “but like. It’s not a rock or whatever in the ocean?”

“You think we’re doing this for a  _rock_?” Nancy throws her sock at Mike. It lands by his feet. She groans and kicks him, her legs lined up with his as they sit facing each other.

Jonathan grabs Nancy’s sock back and lightly foots Mike’s ankle “You still in?”

“Obviously,” Mike says. “I just assumed ... huh. Okay then. Uh, speaking of which,  _when_  are we going?”

Will traces the scar on his cheek absentmindedly, voice heavy as he says, “I mean, the sooner we go, the sooner we’re back.”

“We can’t just leave.” Jonathan frowns. “Mom  _just_  got you back. You need time with her.”

“I know, but you need—”

Nancy clears her throat. Waits for the three to look at her before continuing, despite how sick the idea of suddenly leaving Hawkins makes her. “We can give ourselves a week. A week for Will and Joyce to have to themselves, for the rest of us to make as many good moments as possible until we have to go. Next Monday, we’re off. One week can’t hurt. And, only in case anything happens, we’ll want this. They’ll need this. So let’s do it.”

“We’ll be back,” Jonathan says. “Don’t think that we won’t be. We’re just leaving home for awhile. That’s all.”

Will and Mike’s shoulders slump in relief, their heartbeats steadying. Nancy loves how Jonathan will always be an older brother to them. That they’ll see him as someone who holds the key to the secrets of life, who can make everything okay. Later, she’ll realize that they see her that way too.

Nancy buries her face in Jonathan’s neck. She traces the scar on his palm.

Jonathan doesn’t have all the secrets, but he can make everything okay.

.

.

.

Nancy and Jonathan tell Steve. Mike and Will tell the kids. The siblings split up to tell their mothers. Nancy and Jonathan tell Murray.

Steve’s conversation is the hardest for a myriad of reasons; Steve’s never had to lose them the way everyone else had, he’s the first they tell, and he’s  _Steve_.

To his credit, he doesn’t immediately sob. Not that they would blame him.

They sit by the lake, feet dipped in the water. “I kind of figured.” He kicks the water and watches the slight, ensuing ripple. “We haven’t been here in ages, so I guessed that something was up.”

Nancy swallows the urge to ask if he’s alright. She also swallows the urge to apologize. There’s nothing to be sorry for; it’s just a shitty circumstance sprung from the already shitty hand they’ve been dealt. She refuses to feel sorry for choosing something for herself, for daring to get something better than what she’s been given.

Her heart still hurts for herself, for Jonathan, for Steve. It still sucks.

“We’re getting our future from this,” Jonathan says firmly. “This is a good thing. It will be, anyway.”

Steve nods. “I know, I know. I’m happy for you. Promise me you’ll be safe. Don’t be stupid.”

“We won’t be.” Nancy squeezes his hand. “But you have to promise me one thing.”

Steve raises his head and slightly squints at her. “Yeah, Nance?”

She looks at Jonathan, sitting on Steve’s other side, then back to Steve. She and Jonathan had talked about this earlier and agreed. “You have to live your life. If you meet someone—”

“Whoa, what the fuck are you talking about!? Nance. Johnny Boy. You’re both ridiculous if you think—”

“We’re not demanding you do anything.” Jonathan stares at the water, chin trembling. “Just that ... if you meet someone, and something’s there, don’t feel bad. It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” Steve starts crying then, his eyes red and face tight. “Please don’t say that. No one will make me feel half of what I’ve felt with you two. I couldn’t take any less, not after all of this. So that’s not something that needs to be said. I appreciate it, but that’s so stupid, to think that I—no. Just no.”

She can’t help her relief. Neither she nor Jonathan will push him on this. He can change his mind down the road, not that she thinks he will. He’ll at least know they’ll be okay with it if he does decide someday.

“Go to school,” Jonathan says. “If you want to move, do it. Do whatever you want. Okay?”

“Don’t try looking for us,” Nancy suddenly adds. “It’s not safe, for us, for you. Just trust that we’re thinking of you, okay? Because we will be.  _Always._ ”

“God.” Steve laughs as he wipes his eyes, looking up to the sky. “If this is me now, imagine when we say goodbye next week.”

This gets a chuckle out of Jonathan and Nancy.

A few moments later, he sniffs loudly and claps. “Let’s do something fun. I wanna swim.”

So they step out of their clothes, just their shirts and pants, and dive in. The day is almost exactly like the first time in the lake. Splashing water, shrieking with laughter, feet tangling in the water. They lay out on the pier afterwards, speaking hazily and laying close to each other, like the world is separate from them. It’s so similar to the last time they were here, but so different.

They know each other intimately now. They have something solid, something real. It’s different, but it’s better. In just nine months, they built a good and steady love.

She wonders how much better they can make it when they get their lifetime.

.

.

.

The week flies by too quickly, but they get their happiness.

She doesn’t see much of Will. He’s with Joyce, moving around town or at home, watching homemade videos, showing each other recipes, and swapping stories.

Meanwhile, Nancy, Jonathan, and Mike are passed around to each kid. Steve wants to skip school for the entire week; Nancy and Jonathan bend, ask that he at least go the first two days.

She wishes she could remember more of it. But she’ll remember the small, in-between moments. Jane levitating Nancy in the air, then, after enough convincing, Jonathan. Max crushing Nancy and Mike, but not Jonathan, at Mario Kart. Dustin winning  _Just Dance._ Lucas insisting that the game was rigged, and he should’ve won. Holly and Nancy trying to make dinner and failing spectacularly, with Haley saving the day by getting takeout. Callie drawing Nancy a family picture, stick-figures that were meant to be the two of them, Holly, Haley, Karen, Mike, and Jonathan.

She’ll remember them, and they’ll remember her. She’s leaving again, but this won’t be like last time.

.

.

.

Sunday night, they have a big dinner at the Wheeler’s.

Everyone promises (is forced by Karen, really) to bring something homemade. Jonathan, Will, and Joyce claim to have a super-secret recipe that even Nancy can’t know about. She leaves in the morning to spend time with her other family; she kisses Jonathan, and hugs Will and Joyce goodbye.

Steve bounces between the two homes. He’s already in the kitchen by the time Nancy arrives.

“What is that?” A laugh tumbles past her lips. Curious, she strokes the ridiculously large Chef’s hat on his head with one hand, and his blue apron with the other.

He meets her halfway for a greeting kiss. “Your mom gave it to me.”

Karen shoos them out of the kitchen. “I came here to help you!” Nancy complains half-heartedly, letting her mother push her and Steve into the living room.

“You came here to spend time with me,” Karen points out. She squeezes Nancy’s elbow lightly. “I’ll pop in and out. Don’t worry.”

“You worry more than me.”

Karen scoffs. “That’s you and your siblings’ fault.”

For some reason, Karen allows only Mike in the kitchen. Holly, Nancy, and Steve remain in the living room.

“Tell me where you’re going,” Holly says for the millionth time.

“Nope.” Nancy’s fingers brush over Steve’s ear, pulling a laugh out of him. He’s so ticklish. She does it again and laughs with him. “Look, Will says it’s best that none of you know.”

“But we’re going to the airport with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Nancy!”

“I don’t want to do this,” Nancy says. “I really don’t. But it is what it is, okay? I’m sorry.”

Holly sighs quietly and leans back in their dad’s old reclining chair. “It’s not your fault.” She smiles and looks from Nancy to Steve. “You tried already?”

“Yup,” Steve says, popping the ‘p’. “They’re stubborn people.”

“Not really,” Nancy says. A split second later does she realize what she’s inadvertently subjected herself to as she listens to Holly and Steve take turns giving examples of her, quite frankly  _alleged,_ stubbornness.

Thankfully, Murray’s arrival gives her an excuse to leap to the front door. Jane stands at Murray’s right, smiling brightly.

“He’s cool,” she says in lieu of a greeting. “We’re keeping him, right?”

“If I can’t stay with Mike, I want to stay with her. Can I?”

Nancy looks between them and stifles a laugh. “Come in.”

It’s easy to ignore the dread piling in her stomach when she’s surrounded by the people she loves. Haley shortly arrives with Callie in her hands. Five pm rolls around and Max, Lucas, and Dustin pile in through the front door together. Max brings an apple pie, while Lucas and Dustin bring containers of mashed potatoes.

After kissing Max’s cheek, Jane points at the containers in Dustin’s hands. She looks amused. “Why?”

Lucas grins and dives in to hug Jane. “Everyone loves mashed potatoes.”

“I don’t!” Mike calls out, walking down the hallway to greet them. He smooths his hands over his apron, bits of flour on his nose.

“My bad,” Lucas drawls, mouth still tugged in a grin. “I meant normal people love mashed potatoes.”

“You keep a slingshot in your car at all times.” Nancy lifts herself on her tiptoes to hug Lucas. “You’re not normal either. None of us are. But really, Mike, get a grip.”

Everyone laughs. Mike wrinkles his nose. “What!?”

“What weirdo doesn’t like mashed potatoes? What does Will see in you?” Steve continues. “I mean, I’m kidding, you’re wonderful, please—”

Mike scoffs. “He likes my—”

“WHOA, WHOA!”

“Hey!”

“Relax!”

“No one needs to hear that.” Nancy leans against the wall as the kids shuffle inside, finally. She closes the door and waits for Mike to redeem himself.

“What—no! I was going to say my personality! You guys, Steve is a baby,” Mike says, looking scandalized.

Dustin laughs and thrusts the containers into Mike’s hands. “Oh, how times have changed. Remember when we broke into his house? Sorry again, bud.”

Steve waves a hand dismissively. He and Dustin give each other a one-armed hug. “Bygones and shit.”

Max snorts. She gives Dustin a little shove so she can hug Steve, rising on her tiptoes. “How are you almost eighteen?”

Steve flushes. He wraps his arms around Max and rests his chin on the top of her head. “Good question. I have no fucking idea.”

“STEVE! Stop swearing!” Karen shouts from the kitchen.

Steve’s eyes widen as he and Max pull away from each other. “Shit.”

“STEVE!” Karen yells again.

“I’m sorry!”

The kids laugh again and move towards the living room. Nancy stays back, just for a second, to watch Jane ruffle Steve’s hair and the kids bounce off each other in teasing Steve for wearing an apron despite not being allowed to go into the kitchen.

Tomorrow, they’re gone. But Steve won’t be alone. None of the kids or her family will be, either.

Max stops, frowning over her shoulder. “Nancy, you coming?”

Nancy blinks. The kids and Steve are staring at her, worry clouding their features.

“Nance?” Steve turns around and jogs back to her.

“I’m good.” She laces her fingers with Steve and smiles genuinely at the kids. “I’m fucking great.”

.

.

.

When the Byers family arrives, everyone collectively loses their shit. Well. Maybe everyone except for Callie.

Already seated at the dining table, they jump out of their seats. Karen scrambles to block the entrance. “Wait here. There are too many of you, and I have too many vases that could shatter.”

Everyone groans, but obeys.

Karen smiles triumphantly and walks down the hallway and to the front door. Nancy listens to her open the door, squeal, and hug Joyce. “Will, Jonathan, you two look so nice!”

The four walk at an infuriatingly slow pace to the kitchen. Lucas cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “Jonathan, man, you can speed in here! And Will, you can run!”

“And Ms. Byers, just—I don’t know, hobble over!” Dustin chimes in.

Joyce’s laugh rings throughout the first floor. “I can walk, thank you very much. I don’t hobble.”

“You kind of do,” Karen laughs.

Finally, they step into the kitchen, and it’s absolute chaos. The kids somehow move faster than Nancy, crowding around Will and Jonathan, screaming and cheering.

“Where’s that Shepherd's Pie, huh!?” Lucas says, shaking Jonathan’s shoulders with a grin. “My body is ready.”

“Shepherd's Pie? They’ve tried it, and I haven’t?” Nancy jokes, kissing Joyce’s cheek as they dive in for a hug.

Joyce shrug and tilts her head at Will. “Needed both of them to do it. It’s a family recipe, emphasis on the family.”

“I’m excited to try it!” Jane’s the next to hug Joyce as Nancy waits for Lucas and Will to finish their weird chest-smacking guy-thing, so she can greet Will. “And starving. Mrs. Wheeler wouldn’t let us eat until you got here.”

“Forgive me for caring about manners,” Karen teases, patting Jane’s arm. “Let’s get seated and eat!”

“Y’know what I’m dying to eat?” Steve says in Jonathan’s ear, grinning.

“You’re going to make a stupid joke.” But Jonathan smiles, raising an eyebrow as he waits for Steve to respond.

“He definitely is.” Nancy scoots closer and watches Steve brighten.

“Steve.” Will looks pained as he passes a container of salad to Jane. “I need you to not. I’m going to lose my appetite.”

Steve snaps his mouth shut. He blushes. “Okay, then, but you stop making such aggressive heart-eyes at Mike.”

“What, you want me to stop looking at my—” Will’s eyes widen. The fork in his hand clatters onto his plate. He flushes, turning into a bright crimson under everyone’s stare.

Mike, sitting across from him, leans forward to tap Will’s arm. “Your what? What was that?” He’s got a stupid, shit-eating grin on his face, eyes full of light.

“Yeah, honey, your what?” Joyce joins in. Seated to his right, she smooths the back of his hair.

Jonathan, on Will’s left, bumps his shoulder with his own. “C’mon, buddy. We’re all waiting.”

“This is bullying,” Will says through a laugh. “Can someone pass me the mashed potatoes?”

“No,” the kids chorus.

“Bullies,” Will admonishes, smiling nonetheless. “Nancy?”

Nancy shakes her head. She brings one of the three containers of mashed potatoes to her chest. “Answer the question first.”

He gasps and covers his chest with his hand in faux-offence. “I’m offended. I thought you were cool.”

Mike barks out a laugh. “Nancy? Cool? Impossible.”

“Hey, she’s cool. Cooler than you,” Haley says. She smiles gently to show that it’s good-natured, ruffling Mike’s hair when he scoffs.

Holly beams at the interaction. She takes Haley’s hand into hers and kisses the back of it. “Insult him again.”

Mike shoves a spoonful of Shepherd’s Pie into his mouth. “I take offence to that.”

“How’s it feel?” Will smirks.

“Okay, this is pointless, we all know they’re married,” Max says all too casually.

Karen chokes on her glass of wine. Max has to spend the next two minutes explaining how her comment was offhanded and not genuine.

Mike adds uselessly, “How would we get married when Will’s considered missing? Mom, I feel like you—”

“Can you relax!” Holly kicks Mike from underneath the table. “She just wants you to be happy, idiot!”

“You’re an idiot!”

“You are an idiot,” Nancy says calmly to Mike. “Accept it. Move on.”

“You could get married, though,” Joyce says. Nancy’s pretty sure she’s just trying to console Karen, who looks, for whatever reason, upset. “After you come back.”

Nancy grips her glass of water. She waits for a weird silence to follow, for her stomach to flip, for the ground to feel unsteady beneath her feet, but this is what happens:

“I better be best-man,” Lucas jumps in immediately.

“I’m totally Will’s,” Jane says.

“I’ve known Will for decades,” Dustin scoffs. “I want to be his!”

“Will likes me more,” Jane says.

“Will? Do you?”

“You two can figure it out and when I come back, you’ll tell me who you’ve both agreed to be my best-man?” Will gives them a thumbs-up.

“Mike, I’m yours,” Max says.

“Wait, I’m Mike’s.” Lucas waves his fork, bits of lettuce falling back onto his plate.

“Hey, idiots,” Nancy says fondly. She waits until she swallows her spoonful of mashed potatoes to speak. “There’s two grooms, and four of you. There are already two best men, so why not have four?”

“But Jonathan!”

Jonathan’s mouth quirks into a smile. He looks at Will. “What about me?”

“You’re obviously my best man, too.”

Jonathan’s smile becomes even more tender. “Obviously,” he repeats, his voice soft. “You can add Nancy in to Mike’s side. Equals out.”

She waits for Mike to say something annoying, but he smiles briefly at Nancy before ducking his head and wolfing down the rest of their mom’s pasta.

Steve raises his hand. He waits, impatiently sticking it further in the air, as the kids speak over each other, giggling and fantasizing, planning, maybe, about this wedding.

Nancy doesn’t call on him, because she knows he’s waiting for the kids to notice him. Dustin does it instead. “Yes, Steve?”

“Am I the only one not part of the wedding?”

“I’m not,” Holly says. “But that’s okay. Mike wasn’t apart of my wedding. I have friends that aren’t my siblings.”

Mike shakes his head. “You’re sitting here, with my friends. What the—”

“Don’t swear!” Karen glares at Mike. (Joyce covers her snort with a cough.) “Go back to wedding-talk. I like wedding-talk.”

“Don’t worry, Steve.” Will struggles to get the words out, already laughing. “You can be the ring-bearer.”

Mike’s the first to break into laughter. The rest of the kids join him, howling and holding onto each other’s shoulders to keep from falling over. Joyce and Karen hide their faces with their glasses of wine.

Murray, who’s already on his third plate and occasionally stops eating to chuckle or make a dry comment, grins and continues eating his chicken.

Nancy and Jonathan don’t bother hiding it.

“Nance! Johnny Boy! Why are you both laughing at me?” But he’s laughing too, as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them closer to himself. “Fuckin’ laughing at me.”

Karen doesn’t chastise him for swearing this time. Just shoots them a fond look.

“You would be a cute ring bearer,” Nancy says. “Jonathan agrees with me, don’t ya?”

Jonathan nestles his head against Steve’s arm. “Always agree with you. But yeah. You’d be the cutest.”

She’s feeling extra ridiculous, so she kisses the back of Steve’s neck. He’s extra sensitive there, shrieking with laughter that only gets louder when Jonathan pokes his stomach.

Nancy giggles. She reaches behind Steve to swing an arm around Jonathan’s back. “See? The cutest.”

A flash goes off. Nancy’s too pleased too care.

Jonathan makes a half-hearted noise in protest. “Did someone take my camera?”

“No,” Jane says. Another flash. “I’m borrowing it. Now look at the camera for this next one.”

The trio’s heads turn at the same time to look at Jane. “Do we pose?” Steve asks.

“No, we just look cute and act cute,” Nancy says.

Jonathan scowls. “How?”

She rolls her eyes and gently pinches his side, making him yelp. His face splits into a big, sweet smile, an eyebrow raised like he has no idea why she did that. She tries suppressing a smile and fails. “Like that.”

They look back at Jane, staring right into the camera, and grin as she counts down. She already knows that they’ll get two copies of this photo developed before they leave. They have to.

.

.

.

Everyone spends the night. Will, Mike, and the rest of the kids ran out to Costco to develop the pictures—Dustin claims to know someone who can open the store up so late, which probably explains why they don’t return for nearly an hour.

They fall asleep in the living room, a mass of bodies curled up together. Nancy’s the first to wake up. She’s got her leg tangled with Steve’s, her head on Jonathan’s chest, and Mike’s foot in her hair.

Slowly, she raises her head. Everyone, save for Haley and Callie who are on the sofa, is asleep on the floor, blankets and pillows haphazardly strewn on the floor. She takes a second to appreciate the sight. It’ll be the last time she’ll see something like this for awhile.

She shakes Mike leg. “C’mon,” she mumbles, shaking him harder. “We gotta get up, shower .... ugh.”

He kicks her hand. “Five more minutes.”

“Dumbass, what do you think this is!? We’re leaving today!”

He groans. “Wake everyone else up. Time?”

“Time for you—oh shit.” It’s six am. They’ve got three hours until their flight. “It’s six! Let’s go!”

No one moves a muscle.

She scowls, dragging herself to her feet. “You guys suck.”

“Love you too,” Max mumbles into Dustin’s arm. “Shit, am I drooling on you?”

“Been doing it all night,” Dustin says, eyes closed. “‘S fine.”

It takes five more minutes to convince everyone to get moving, to wake them up and actually get them into the kitchen. Holly gets everyone breath mints and gum, while Joyce starts a pot of coffee. “When are you guys leaving?”

“An hour,” Will says morosely. “I’ve got your fake passports, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Nancy rubs her eyes for the third time, but it doesn’t rub out any more sleep than it did the first time. “I, uh. I have everything.”

She had packed earlier last week and spent the weekend here anyway, so her belongings have been sitting by the front door for the past day. Mike did the same thing. Jonathan and Will brought their things with them last night. There isn’t much to do, but deal with what’s to come.

Steve returns then into the kitchen, his bed head now smoothed over with Nancy’s comb. “Coffee ready?”

“Almost,” Joyce says.

Steve nods and shoots her a thin-lipped smile. He leans against the doorframe, briefly, before his eyes find Nancy and Jonathan. “Mornin’.” He takes their hands in his and squeezes.

Nancy shuts her eyes as he pulls them into himself. She rests her head against his chest. His heartbeat could lull her back to sleep, but makes her want to cry instead. “Morning,” she manages.

“Sleep okay?” Jonathan asks. He rubs a hand up and down Steve’s back, digging his face in Steve’s neck. At this, the kids and mothers shuffle towards the other side of the kitchen. Nancy’s thankful.

Steve’s breath hitches. “Always sleep good next to you two.”

She tilts her head up and grabs Steve’s face. Leaning in close, she stops when their noses touch, eyes opening to stare into his. “I’m going to see this face again. You believe me?”

Tears stream down his cheeks. Jonathan wipes them away as Nancy cups his face, determined not to cry herself. “I do,” he says quietly. “I’m just going to miss you a lot. It’s going to—God, it’s going to hurt so bad.”

“We’ll be hurting too.” Jonathan rests his forehead against Steve’s cheek, the hand not on Steve’s back touching Nancy’s arm. “But you’re not alone. You’ve got Dustin, Lucas, Max, El, Holly, our moms, if you ever—I mean, if  _you_ want—”

“Hell yeah I want.” Steve’s voice thickens with emotion, but he smiles. “ I like ‘em. Like ‘em a lot. And we’ll miss you guys together.”

“And the four of us will miss all of you together too,” Nancy says. She smiles back, enveloped in the warmth of the loves of her life, thrumming, strangely enough, with joy. She got more time than she ever expected. Nine, full months, and not just with Steve—months spent with her mother and Joyce, getting to know her sister, mending her relationship with her brother, and reconnecting with the kids. They got Will back. And now they’re getting their lives back.

No matter what, nothing can change the months she got here. No matter what, she got to live the life that was rightfully hers. No matter what, she loved all of them, they loved all of her, and they all knew it.

It counted. It mattered. It meant everything.

.

.

.

Minutes later, when they three reluctantly disentangle from each other, still clinging to their hands, Mike announces that they’ll be dropped off at the airport.

“What changed?” Nancy doesn’t mind, but she still asks, shooting a brief smile at Holly.

“We’re going away for awhile,” Mike says. His gaze shifts between Lucas, Dustin, El, and Jane, causing a slight smile to spread across his lips. “What the hell, right?”

Karen, Joyce, and Murray hang back. There already isn’t enough space in Dustin and Lucas’ van. Secretly, Nancy’s relieved; she couldn’t take the sight of any of them sobbing at the airport. She would break right then and there, and probably wouldn’t get on the flight.

Standing on the front lawn, Nancy wraps her arms tightly around Karen.

“You can’t die,” Karen murmurs in Nancy’s ear, her voice shaking.

“Neither can you.” Nancy takes note of Karen’s scent, basking in her jasmine perfume and green apple shampoo. “I love you. I always have. You’ve done good, okay? I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you. I’m sorry for—”

“Stop.” Karen pulls back and cups Nancy’s jaw, her smile as bright as the tears in her eyes. “You did it for love. You’re a good person. You’re brave, you’re strong, and you’re someone I’m proud of. Someone who inspires  _me._ I just don’t want this life for you, but look at you. Getting the life that you deserve. This person you’ve become, Nancy, it’s not on me. It’s all on you.”

Nancy’s heart swells three sizes. “I love you,” she repeats, her brain short-wiring as she burns the words into the back of her mind, as she soaks up the feeling of her mother’s pride, her mother’s love, and just. Her mother.

Her heart pangs as Jonathan and Will cry into each of Joyce’s shoulders.

“I’m coming back,” Will promises. “I’m sorry for—”

“You wanted to keep your brother safe. I understand. Don’t be sorry.”

“But if something happens to you—”

Joyce barks out a laugh and pull her boys closer, pausing to kiss their foreheads. “You were gone thirty-seven years while Jonathan did God-knows what to make the world safer and somehow, I’ve been in great health condition. My heart’s not giving out until I tell it to. You two listen to me. We’ll have time. I promise.”

Nancy steps back so Mike can fling himself into Karen’s arms. She catches Murray swallow back a sob, and turns on her heel to find him leaning against the front porch railing.

“I don’t know how to say this.” She walks up to him, her eyes already glassy again. “But I will.  _You_ need to hear it, and I need to know that you know it. I love you, alright? You kept Jonathan and me human. You were there, and you didn’t have to be, but you got a call in ‘83 about two, seventeen year-old teens turned into vampires. You let us into your house and didn’t look back. You saved me. You’re like a ... you know what I mean, right?”

Murray pushes his glasses up and chuckles wetly. “I never saw myself as a father, but yeah, I do. But I don’t see it as me saving you. Or maybe we saved each other. All I had was my work, and then I had two reckless, stupidly brave, and wildly intelligent kids with the biggest hearts I’d ever seen. And that just gave me everything.”

She beams and steps closer to him, shoving her hands into her pockets to keep from immediately hugging him. “Are you crying on me?”

“You are, too,” he scoffs. He rubs his eyes, hard, so she takes his hand and forces him into a hug. “I do too, you know. I can’t get it—”

“It’s okay,” she promises, sniffing into his shoulder. “I know.”

Jonathan appears by their sides to say goodbye to Murray. She smiles at Murray, touches Jonathan’s palm, and hurries to Joyce. They’re running out of time. She has to make this quick.

Will steps past Joyce to hug Karen, so Nancy steps towards her and quickly, but carefully hugs Joyce.

“C’mere, honey, let me just—” She strokes the back of Nancy’s head and holds her close, with providing the same comfort that Karen did.

She’s good like this. She told Joyce everything she said last week. “Thank you for everything. I love you, Joyce.”

“Love you too, Nancy. Always have.”

She doesn’t remember stepping away from Joyce. Even stepping into the van is a blur. Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve are in one row, Will, Holly, Jane, Max, and Mike (on the floor) squeezed in the other, so when Dustin starts driving, they roll the windows down and start yelling.

It’s mostly incoherent, a bunch of “I love you”’s shouted fervently from both sides.

Nancy’s bawling. She waves at the people who shaped her. She listens to their strong heartbeats, far after they’ve driven away, until they’re too far to hear them.

.

.

.

“I’ll take a bunch of pictures for ya,” Steve says. “So many that you’ll get sick of my cute face.”

“Impossible,” Nancy says automatically. She props her head against the car window to gauge his reaction, grinning when he does. “Keep a diary. I wanna read all your thoughts, even when half of ‘em will be about us.”

“I better see some thing about  _school_ or, like, the next time Tommy breaks his arm and draws a penis on it.” Jonathan rolls his eyes at his own recollection of Tommy. “Seriously. We want all of it.”

Steve holds his breath. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Don’t you want us to do that, Mike, Will?” Max says teasingly.

“I want pictures. I don’t need to hear about how loudly El snores or how much you miss me when I’ll—” Mike’s voice breaks. He reaches out to push a strand of hair out of his face out of habit, despite Karen pinning it back for him this morning. “I’ll miss you too. But you knew that.”

Max leans over Jane to lightly punch his arm. “Of course.”

Dustin swears. “Are we here?  _Already?_ ”

“We can’t be,” Holly says in disbelief.

Nancy’s mouth turns dry. The airport is larger than she thought it would be, with cars and people moving by them. This is it.

Lucas and Jane take out the luggage from the car despite their protests. “We’ve got this,” Jane says. It’s only four pieces of luggage, one per person, but still.

They walk, all ten of them, quietly into the airport. Will stops abruptly once they’re ten feet in, with people buzzing in and out past them. “We need to leave here.”

“What are you—”

“Are you crazy!?”

“No fucking way.”

“Nancy, Jonathan …” Steve’s chin trembles. He runs a hand through his hair, thoroughly disheveling it, fingers clenching and unclenching.

They already don’t know where they’re flying to. Another precaution, to stay safe.

“We would have to leave eventually,” Mike reasons. Nancy can’t get past the lump in her throat, so she gestures to Mike in agreement, digging her fingers into her palms to keep from breaking apart. “It’s safer.”

“You’re full of  _shit,_ ” Holly snarls. She doesn’t let Mike respond, running into his arms and right into his chest. “I hate you.”

Mike stumbles, but hugs her back, relief pouring out of his long exhale. “Hate you too.”

There are four kids and a Steve to say goodbye to. Nancy starts before it’ll hurt too much. Dustin is the closest, so she yanks on his wrist and pulls him close. “You’re a good kid.”

Dustin laughs and hugs her back. “Not a kid.”

“You turned out good, then. All of you.” She lifts herself up onto her tiptoes to ruffle his hair. “You guys will watch over our moms? Murray and Steve, too?”

“They’re family,” Dustin says easily. “Don’t even have to ask.”

With a surge of appreciation, she pats his arm and beams. “I’m sorry we couldn’t meet Willow before leaving.”

Dustin’s smile doesn’t falter. “You’ll have time to meet her, won’t you? When you get back.” He carries himself with certainty, arms returning to his side.

“Right.” Nancy smiles at him for another moment. Then she meets Jane who’s already leaning in for a hug. “I’m really happy I met you.”

Jane lets out a long, relieved exhale. “Me too.

“You’re extraordinary, but it’s not just about here, you know?” Nancy lightly taps Jane’s forehead. “You’ve got a good heart.”

Jane’s breath hitches. She nods firmly, wiping her eyes with one hand, and touching Nancy’s shoulder with the other. “You’re better than Mike described. Didn’t think that was possible from how much he raved about you.”

“ _Jane!_ ” Mike yelps, pretending to glare at her from over Lucas’ shoulder.

“Yeah?” Jane smiles softly at him. She takes Lucas’ place and jumps into Mike’s arms.

Max throws her arms around Nancy’s neck. “You’ve got this. I better hear a bunch of crazy, unbelievable shit when you get back, yeah?”

She can barely get the words out. Squeezing Max back, she murmurs, “Of course. And I better hear that nothing crazy happened here, that you’re doing fantastic, that you’re happy.”

“I can tell you that right now,” Max says seriously, and goddammit, Nancy can’t take all this crying.

She holds Lucas next. His image is hazy from the blur of tears in her eyes. He’s so tall, she thinks, pleased when he gives her a slight twirl. He says something in her ear, something semi-coherent due to his tears, but she catches ‘like an older sister’ and she’s back to blubbering.

And then Holly replaces Lucas’ spot when Lucas rushes to hug Will. She stands still, mouth quivering, her eyes red. It reminds Nancy so much of Holly at four years, crying because Nancy couldn’t colour with her; then of the countless number of times that Nancy cried herself, wishing she stopped caring about inconsequential shit, like school, and just. Coloured dinosaurs with her baby sister.

“I spent so long without either of you with me. I don’t want to go back to that,” Holly admits, sniffing.

Nancy smears her hand over her cheek right as another large tear rolls down her face. “I don’t want that either.”

“So you better come back,” Holly says, vaguely threatening. It pulls a laugh fromNancy’s throat as the two sisters finally hug, grasp on each other tight and warm.

“Callie needs her aunt, right?”

Holly looks at Nancy, blue staring into blue. “And I need my sister.” Her soft smile broadens when Mike accidentally bumps his shoulder into Holly’s. “And my stupid brother.”

“I missed that conversation. She say something nice?” Mike raises an eyebrow at Nancy, elbowing Holly.

Nancy grins, her heart full. “Shockingly, yeah.”

“Don’t have fun without me,” Holly says, mostly jokingly.

Nancy just sniffs in response and Mike blinks furiously to keep from crying anymore than he already has. Both siblings fail and cry against each other, snot and tears getting everywhere. No one has the heart to complain. No one really minds.

After a dozen seconds, Nancy steps back, surveying the kids, lined up in front of her. Lucas tugs on Mike’s hand and Holly pushes Will forward. The kids launch into a speech dedicated to Mike and Will that mostly consists of sobbing and clinging onto each other.

“Ste—” She turns around and bumps right into him.

Steve laughs shakily. His hands steady her shoulders, smile softening as he cups her jaw. “Hey.”

She melts. Touches her forehead to his. “Hey. Jona—”

“Hey.” Jonathan smiles sheepishly, having sped to their sides.

She lightly swats his chest, widening her eyes to give him a semi-fake, scandalized look. “People are here.”

He shrugs, sliding an arm around her waist, another around Steve’s neck. “No one pays attention to anyone else at airports. It’s all about the people you love.”

And now she wants to cry again. “This is goodbye for now. That’s all.”

“What if,” Steve says breathlessly. His trembling voice makes her heart pang painfully, “if you come back, ten years later, and I’m, like, thirty—”

“You’ll be twenty-eight.” Jonathan’s mouth twitches into a smile.

“And you’ll still be a smart-ass.” Steve grins, pressing a kiss to the top of Jonathan’s head. “But you come back then, and you’re seventeen, then what, then  _how_ —”

“That wouldn’t matter, but even then, it won’t take ten years,” she interrupts. “Will thinks it’d be five, at most—”

“ _Five—_ ”

“And that’s at most. At. Most. You’ll be twenty-three, maybe with glasses, grow out a stubble. Your hair. Grow it out.”

Steve chuckles. It comes out flat. “You won’t have a blood kink anymore, so you’ll need something else, right? My hair’s a good place to go next.”

Jonathan combs his fingers through Steve’s hair. He hums in agreement. “You’ll probably have your vampire kink still, ‘cuz you’re weird.”

“At least I don’t cry after sex.”

“That was  _one time._ ”

Nancy laughs. She’ll miss this. She’ll miss all of it. “You get a new kink, we’ll get a new kink, and the sex we’ll have when we get back will be mind-blowing.” Her eyes can’t help but glaze over the hickey peeking through Steve’s collar. Stare at it long enough and you can see the teeth-indents.

“Deal.” Steve’s smile fades. “I thought about what I wanted to say, about our perfect, airport goodbye with kisses, dramatic hugs, and an even more dramatic speech, but you need to go soon, and I … don’t need any of that movie shit. Don’t need the sweeping declarations, ‘cuz you two  _have_ to know how gone I am for you. All I need is our ending, okay? I know, okay, life doesn’t work like that, but—”

“If we’ve been seventeen for thirty-eight years, than we can and will get the happy ending we deserve,” Jonathan says, voice mixed with tenderness and determination.

Steve’s eyes sparkle. He and Jonathan meet in the middle for a long, tender kiss. It has Nancy’s chest seizing with the realization that this is their last kiss for awhile.

So the second that they pull apart, she presses her mouth against Steve. The kiss swallows his slight grunt in surprise and throws her back to August, sitting in his living room, the weight of the truth finally between them, and him saying he wanted it, wanted them anyway.

“You’re why we’re here,” she says against his lips. It’s not specific. She sounds dazed, nonsensical.

But there isn’t time to tell him that he really is why they’re here. He’s what got them to throw caution to the wind and stay in Hawkins, setting into motion all of this; her reuniting with her siblings, the kids, and Will, the end of Brenner, them finding the cure.

But Steve nods, understanding what she means.

Jonathan rubs their backs and cries quietly. Nancy and Steve reach out to wipe his face at the same time.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

It comes out at the same time; they laugh, faces and eyes red, an end and a beginning the only thing separating them in this moment, space be damned.

“Come back to me,” Steve says.

Nancy looks at the kids, who hold onto Will and Mike as all of them watch the three say goodbye.

Her people. Her family. Her home.

She reaches for Jonathan’s hand. Their scars line up. He’s still misty-eyed, so she says what they’re both thinking. “We’ll come back to you. All of you.”

And eventually, they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you crying? so am i, and i wrote the darn thing. 
> 
> hello! this chapter came along really well, and ngl, i was so sad (in a good way) writing the goodbye scenes, especially with the parents. i had to take several walks writing the second half of this chapter. so, i really hope you loved this chapter as much as i did. like. you guys. i really love nancy wheeler. all of these kids deserve the WORLD, and they're gonna get it soon!!!
> 
> one chapter left. wow. i have no idea how we got here, but i'm so happy that we did. brace yourselves for next week's (final) inevitably long and emotional author's note. 
> 
> catch me yelling about season 3 on [tumblr!](https://trulyalpha.tumblr.com/) come say hi so we can yell together. i died and came back to life at the sight of nancy with her gun and jonathan with an axe. our monster hunting trio's got all of their weapons!!! yes, i'm taking all the scraps i can get. 
> 
> comments are greatly appreciated. i hope you're all doing well. 💖


	11. Chapter 11

It doesn’t take five years. Just takes two.

Weeks go by where they don’t even know the date. Nancy’s birthday comes and goes. She doesn’t even realize it until the beginning of June, after they’ve  _ran_ into the car they came in, narrowly avoiding a pissed-off werewolf, and Mike threw something into her lap.

“Stop giving me your shit!” Nancy had yelled, not even looking at the box in her hands. 

“It’s not  _my_ shit! It’s your shit! Your birthday was two weeks ago, I know, I swear I didn’t forget, I just—”

“ _What!?”_ Nancy, Jonathan, and Will yelled. 

“We have to do something!” Will insisted, as if there wasn’t blood (not his) on his shirt. They needed beta blood; she hoped that blood was salvageable. 

Normally, Nancy didn’t  _really_ care about her birthday. It was another reminder that she was still seventeen. Nothing worth celebrating there. But this could be her last “seventeenth” birthday, and it was the first one she had with Mike and Will. It meant something more this time around.

So once they were safely situated back in their motel, they bought fast-food and ate with their two beds pushed together. 

“You’re sure this cure won’t turn them into their actual ages?” Mike asks. He peels his socks off as the other three cozy themselves on the bed.

Will nods. He leans against the headboard, stretching his arms out. “It undoes everything that vampirism gave them. It’s like an undo button. It brings Jonathan and Nancy back to where they started. You’ll age normally from then on out”

Nancy slurps from her Coke. “So like hitting unpause on our lives?”

“Basically, yeah,” Will says. “Unpause for all of us too.”

“Thank you, again, bud,” Jonathan says, quickly adding, “Alright, I swear this is the last time I’ll thank you and Mike for coming with us. Well. Maybe not the last time. Last time in awhile. Probably.”

They share a laugh. For a few minutes, they eat in silence, everyone exhausted and starving.

“Steve’s graduation was yesterday, I think,” Nancy says, shoving a french fry into his mouth.

“Wow.” Mike wipes his mouth with a napkin. He crumples it and tosses it into the empty bag they’re using for garbage. “We’ll be back in time for his college graduation. Huh.”

Nancy foots Mike’s thigh from across him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing. I just really feel like a parent.” Mike laughs. “I didn’t feel like that with Willow. She’s always been scary independent. Like. Learned how to ride a bike on her first try, taught  _me_ how to make an omelette.”

“You can’t make an omelette?” Jonathan says.

Mike guffaws. He jags a finger at Will. “Will can’t drive!”

“Yeah, and?” Will rolls his eyes and elbows Mike. “You’re so lame. You and your son.”

“He’s your son, too,” Mike mumbles, elbowing Will back. His shifting on the bed causes the container with the rest of their fries bounces off the bed.

In the blink of an eye, Nancy catches it and places the container back onto the bed with ease. She’s probably done this a million times, using her speed like this, but it feels significant. “Weird to think one day I can’t do that.”

Subconsciously, everyone’s gaze drifts to Will. He wipes his hands on his black sweatpants. “My checklist is five pages. But we’re two items down.”

“I feel like you phrased that weirdly,” Jonathan says, voice light, teasing. “How’re we doing?”

Mike shrugs. He leans against the headboard. “Not dead, so I’m peachy.”

Nancy can’t help but laugh. She rubs her eyes and scowls when the grease touches her skin. “It’s not the hardest thing I’ve done, so.”

Will coughs on his chicken. “What was harder than this? Brenner?”

“No.” She blushes when the answer sits on the tip of her tongue. “It’s cheesy, but …” She looks at Mike and forces a smile. “Leaving Hawkins the first time. Nothing tops that.”

“Agreed.” Jonathan touches her hand. Brushes his thumb against her scar. “Maybe dying, too. Wasn’t really fun.”

They fall into a schedule. Go on a wild-goose chase for a random, seemingly obscure thing—pixie dust, a fairy’s tear. Nearly die in the process. Fly into a different country, most often in a different continent. Repeat.

It’s not like they’re running out of time. It’s just that lots of people are. She thinks of her mother playing with Callie; Joyce, brightening at the sound of her son’s voices, at the sight of them together; Holly with her Chief’s badge shining in the daylight; the kids, laughing because someone said duty; Steve’s hair beneath her fingers, his breathing calm, steady and—

She thinks about them a lot. 

She understands, now, what she’s missing. 

But there are some upsides. Sure, it’s an excruciatingly long process with excessive travelling, moving, trusting old deities and witches and also trying not to die because the cure for vampirism is frowned upon, because nothing about the supernatural is ever safe.

She has Jonathan and his warm hands and soft smile. She has Mike, who has thousands of stories and a thousand more questions. The light’s slowly flickering back into his eyes. She has Will, who she’s only really known for months now, but has known all her life.

“He’s missed, you know,” Will says. 

It’s a few months later. Nancy’s stopped keeping track of how many days they’ve been gone, of how many different countries they’ve been to, hoping it’ll make the time pass easier. 

It’s just her and Will in their motel room. The motel’s light flickers. She nearly drops the cup in her hands as the blood slowly guzzles down her wrist and into the cheap plastic. It’s hard to ignore the long gash down Will’s leg. “I know.”

“Like. Really missed you. Probably more than me.”

She looks up now, raising her eyebrows. “Oh, c’mon. You’re … I mean, we were never that close.”

He pshaws and accepts the cup thrust into his hands. “You were still his big sister. He always figured you two would when you were older, but then …”

“But then,” she sighs. “At least we found our way back to each other, in the end.”

He abruptly stops swallowing and brings the cup away from his mouth. “It’s not the end. You’ve got time. Lots of it.” Will’s eyes shine, reminding her of Jonathan, his slow smile reminding her of Joyce. But his heart is all his.

She gently bumps her knee against his. “So do you. You and Mike, you and Jonathan, Joyce. You could have a life with Mike. You could have a life, period.”

He downs the rest of the cup. Crumples it with his hands and lets out a heavy breath. “Wonder what that’ll be like.”

His heartbeat pounds in her ears, so she touches his arm and smiles. Will’s smile softens in turn. For a brief moment, she wonders if it’s because it reminds her of Mike, but she doubts it.

“We’ll find out together. All of us,” she promises. 

Will’s smile widens. “Guess we will.”

They spend the next ten minutes waiting for Mike and Jonathan, the two having gone to a nearby grocery store since they really wanted to cook dinner instead of buying. Nancy and Will thought it was a terrible idea. Not terrible enough for them  _not_ to want to see the mess unfold.

She expects silence. She wouldn’t mind it. But Will asks, “Can you cut my hair for me?”

That’s how Jonathan and Mike find Nancy leaning over Will’s head, laughing at him to stop moving.

“What’s going on?” Mike adjusts the groceries in his hand to touch the back of his ponytail. He frowns.

“Your soulmate asked me to cut his hair,” Nancy replies casually. “What? We can have a conversation. We’re friends. We’re—”

Jonathan sets a mixer on the dresser. “Mike’s staring at you because of the soulmate thing, Nancy.”

“Oh.” Nancy dusts strands of hair off of Will’s shoulder. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” Mike says. He finally shuts his mouth. “Unless Will objects, of course.”

“Stop being dumb and make us that soup you’ve been craving.” Will cants his head to grin lopsidedly at Mike.

Nancy’s so amused that she doesn’t voice her annoyance at Will for  _moving_ again. “You seeing this?” 

Jonathan hums. He walks past the bed to the chair Will’s seated on. He raises his hand to ruffle Will’s hair out of habit, only to pause at the glare both Will and Nancy send him, chuckling. He rests his chin on her shoulder from behind. “Hi.”

“Hi.” 

“I’m disgusted,” Mike says without any heat. He doesn’t start cooking. The little shit. Just lounges on the bed, taking his socks off and balling them up. 

“We said hi!” Nancy laughs and yelps when Mike flings a sock at her.

“Use protection next time,” Will supplies, making Mike cackle, and Jonathan horrified.

These moments. These are the ones that matter. These are the ones that get her through.

.

.

.

A year later, Mike gets shot in Seoul. 

It’s not a big deal. So they run into hunters in Europe, who are so terrible at their job, that they shoot a human instead of the two vampires.

It’s not a big deal. Jonathan rushes to Mike’s side and scoops him into his arms. Will fires at their legs and Nancy swipes the tooth they came looking for, thinking that they shouldn’t have bothered playing nice in the first place.

It’s not a big deal. Will strokes Mike’s hair in the car as Nancy gives him her blood, Jonathan driving carefully in the dark to avoid potholes.

It’s not a big deal. Except it missed Mike’s heart by an inch. Except he was too close to dying. Except for the fact that it’s a  _huge_ deal.

Jonathan hugs her the second they’re back at their motel. “You need a minute? 

The fact that he knows exactly what she needs makes her kiss him then. They’re exhausted, reek of blood and sweat, and her face is stained with tears, but it doesn’t matter much when Jonathan kisses her back.

So Will and Jonathan leave to buy a DVD. They announce their search search for the worst flick possible, choosing to raid a convenient store two blocks away.

After Will says goodbye to Mike, he flashes a grin at Jonathan. “Race you there?”

“ _Who_ has super-speed again, bud?” Jonathan grins back. He says goodbye to Mike, telling him to just take it easy, and gives a meaningful nod to Nancy. The two brothers step out of the room and into the hallway.

The second the door shuts, Mike snorts. “You want to talk me down, don’t you? Tell me to be safer, less stupid?”

“But if you were less stupid, you wouldn’t be you.” She plops next to him on the bed. “You were being stupid there.”

“We’re all being stupid. This is a stupid thing we’re doing, but it’s also the best thing, so. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

“Doesn’t matter when a bullet can’t hurt me.” 

Mike opens his mouth only to shut it. 

Her chin trembles, but she doesn’t look away from him. “You could die.”

“So could Will.”

“He’s been fighting all his life.”

“So have  _I._ Nancy, I’m not losing you again. If we had teamed up last time, if I had done something—”

“What could you have done? What could any of us have done?” The relief that pours out of her is immeasurable. She almost cries with it, how her mind immediately jumped to her own defence. But then Mike sets his jaw, chin jutting whenever he’s trying not to cry, and she wants to bawl for another reason. “Either way, this is  _my_ burden, not yours.”

“You’re my sister.” His mouth cracks into a dry smile. “Plus, I’ve already been hurt by your burden before, remember?” He reminds her, not unkindly. “All I need is you.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt. We’ll come home.”

“If something happens, then I want to be—”

“Mike—”

“Nancy. I’m all grown-up now. You’re literally seventeen. You’re my older sister, but you’re still seventeen.”

She glances at his chest. The wound has been gone for half an hour now, but she can still see the blood pulsing, hear his guttural cry.  “I put your life on hold,” she says, her voice cracking. “I did this to—”

“Hey, no.” Mike frowns, touching her wrist. “I brought myself here. The two most important people in my life vanished, and I wouldn’t be able to do anything without at least knowing. Now I know. But I’m not finished.”

She grabs his hand and squeezes. “I thought about you every day. About the life you had, about how many arguments you would get into with dad, about you going through a long-hair phase. I didn’t think it would stick.” She laughs as she flicks one of his many long curls. “But it’s a good look. I always wondered. I just didn’t want you to see me like this. I wanted you to have a normal life.”

Mike laughs back, even harder. “Who wants that?”

Seriously, she says, “After all of this, you’re going to have one.”

“You too. Maybe not, actually. Two partners? You always have to make things so difficult, Nancy,” he says in a spot-on impersonation of their father. “He’s rolling in his grave right now.”

“As if he’d be proud of you and Will.” She rolls her eyes. “He would have hated how we all turned out.”

Mike shrugs and lays flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling.  “Yeah, well. Disappointing him was always my life-goal. Next to finding you and Will, of course.”

Some of the exhaustion in her bones lifts. She bumps her shoulder against Mike’s. They stare at the ceiling. The silence they fell into, waiting for their people to come back to their old, disgusting motel room, was peaceful.

.

.

.

Jonathan smiles slowly with his eyes shut. “You watchin’ me sleep?” He asks it like he also hasn’t done it with her a million times.

Nancy smiles, head propped up on her chin. Somehow, she blushes after so many years together. “Nah. Watching you be a shit-head, actually.”

He laughs. He rolls over and flits his eyes open. “Morning.”

She lays down, shifting close enough that their noses brush. “Morning. We have an hour to ourselves. ’S only five, and our brothers are wiped out.”

Jonathan looks over to the other bed, two feet away from theirs. Will lays half on top of Mike, their hands laced. Their chests rise at the same time. It’s mesmerizing.

“We’re not having sex with our brothers in the room.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She leans her forehead against his. “I kinda meant we could do this. Just kinda exist together. Lay down and not worry about getting, like, a toenail from a thousand year-old vampire.”

“You weren’t the one who had to cut it off. I don’t think my hands are clean enough from that.”

She snorts. “Yeah, well. Our souls are so bonded, that I felt your pain.” It’s half-teasing, but she means all of it.

The morning sunlight catches in Jonathan’s eyes. “Really?” 

“Really. You stubbed your toe yesterday at the same time I almost fell over.”

“I think that just means we’re the clumsiest vampires to exist.”

“Semantics.”

He slides his hand over to the small of her back. “We’re three and a half pages finished Will’s checklist.”

“We are. We’re almost there.” She cups the back of his head, soothing her fingers through his hair. “Can I admit something?”

“Always.”

“I don’t think I could’ve done any of this without you. All those years, just. It would’ve killed me.”

He kisses her forehead. “Me too. You’ve saved my ass, yeah, but you kept me from losing my mind. You kept me … me. You know that, right?”

“I do.”

They lay there together. A few minutes of peaceful silence with sunlight on their faces, skin on skin. 

“It’s four pm in Hawkins,” she tells him. The first thing she does when Will tells them where they’re off to the next is figure out the time differences.

“Holly just started her shift. It’s Thursday, right?” 

“Yeah.” She traces a circle on his chest, nestling his shoulder. “They’re doing their board-game night in a few hours. Dustin’s definitely making his potato salad. I feel like Jane’s probably making her brownies.”

“While Max and Lucas are useless and distract them,” Jonathan says with a laugh.

“Book club is tomorrow. Murray’s so finishing his book last-minute.”

“Your mom is totally giving him shit for it.” His shoulders sag. “My mom’s giving your mom shit for giving him shit.”

She thinks of Joyce and Karen in their matching sweaters. Then of Murray forced to, but secretly loving wearing a third sweater. “God, yes. And Steve’s definitely continuing with the Don’s tradition. You think university matured Tommy?”

“I’m a hopeful person, but …” Jonathan smiles when Nancy laughs into his neck. “You think Steve ever grew his hair out?”

“I hope so. I hope he’s tried a million different things. I hope we’ll have pictures for every day we were gone.”

“That’s about five-hundred and fifty-seven days now,” he says with the ease of someone who’s been counting.

“I know.”

He smiles. “We’ll have ’em. And him.”

Her throat tightens. “I miss them.”

Jonathan holds her and sighs into her hair. “Me too. But three and a half pages. That’s—what is that?”

“Seventy percent,” she says with the ease of someone who’s been keeping track. They smile at each other. “Easier to know that than the number of days.”

“I get it.”

Mike groans. He rolls over, pulling Will with him, but doesn’t stir again.

“I love you,” she whispers. 

“I love you too. I can’t wait to hear your heartbeat.”

She grins lazily, tipping his chin to kiss him. “Can’t wait for your first white hair.”

“Can’t wait for your first scar. Knowing you, you’ll get one, don’t look at me like that.”

“It’ll be my second scar, remember?” She slides her scar-covered hand over his cheek. “Can’t wait for your eighteenth birthday.”

“Can’t wait to eat garlic bread with you.”

“Can’t wait to run with you.”

“Can’t—can’t wait to see you and him together. Just. The three of us together.” Jonathan’s smile shakes, but doesn’t falter. “He’s going to be so horny.”

It’s so random that she bursts into laughter, biting onto her lip to keep from waking Will and Mike.

Jonathan flushes and insists that it’s because there’s no way he would sleep with anyone else, that it makes  _sense,_ and that he knows she’s thought about it too.

“No duh,” she says softly, pressing a hand against his chest. “Thirty percent left.”

He covers her hand with his. “Thirty percent left.”

.

.

.

They’re in Dubai, drinking tea near a small, beautiful temple, when Will says, “So we’re pretty much finished.”

“We’re—what?” Jonathan stares in disbelief, his eyes widening. He looks at Nancy, but she can’t take her eyes off of Will.

“What do you mean, we’re done?” Mike asks slowly. His hands shake badly, so he sets his cup down.

Will winces. Probably realizes he shouldn’t have done this in public. “We have everything we need. Pixie dust was the last thing. We just need your blood and we’re good.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this sooner?” Mike asks, his eyes on Nancy.

She still can’t speak. They thought there was another half-page left; Will must’ve done that on purpose.

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up. It was so close, and anything could go wrong. But this is it.”

“This is it,” Nancy echoes. She finishes the rest of her tea in one go. A strange emptiness sits in her chest. It’s where her heart would race. It’s where it might, in a few days, maybe even in a few hours.

They don’t scream with joy until after they’ve paid and are seated in their car.

They have to do it at night (“Of course,” Jonathan grumbles next to her, only to quickly smile when Nancy laughs, both giddy and trying not to get excited but too full of hope not to), by a small fire by the ocean. Nancy doesn’t know a lot about the process. She tried, honestly. She asked Will to explain it to her, but there were so many steps, requirements, things that seemed impossible, all of it taking too much time. 

For the first time in awhile, there wasn’t enough time. The thought is intoxicating.

She assumes the process will be as complicated as the  _two years_ of getting and doing everything they needed.

“That’s  _it?”_  Nancy suspects the red liquid in a mug they bought in Egypt, shaped in a pyramid. She stirs it gently. “We just drink from this?”

“Yeah.” Will nods at their mugs. He’s probably the most nervous of them all. All of this was a long-shot after a long-shot, him trusting in myths, in people who were barely that, in hope itself. “The fire’s here because you need a natural light that’s not the sun. It has to be at night, in the dark, emphasizing the no sun thing. That’s it. The hard part is finally over.”

The stars aren’t shining, the moon is a mere, glowing sliver in the sky, but they’re there. The ocean is quiet, almost still.  She can hear the waves when she shuts her eyes. Can hear laughter. A toddler garbling her name. The clicking of a camera. Heavy breathing during a midday run. Chamomile tea poured into a mug. Pushpins digging into a mystery board. 

When she opens her eyes, there’s only the crackling of fire. Will and Mike are holding their breaths. She wonders if they notice that they’re holding hands.

Jonathan reaches out to touch her hand at the same time she does. “Together?” He grips her hand.

This might be a terrible moment to kiss him, but she goes for it anyway. “Together.”

There’s a life waiting for them at the bottom of their mugs. 

They nod and swallow at the same time. It takes everything in her not to spit it out. The drink is thick and viscous, but she forces all of it down. It doesn’t taste like anything. The second she’s swallowed everything, she waits for something. For her to cough, vomit.  _Anything._

But nothing.

“Well?” Mike says, stepping forward. 

“Did it work?” Will’s voice shakes.

Nancy stares at Jonathan. It’s somehow quieter than before. For a moment, one she’ll call incredibly stupid when she’ll later think about it, she has no idea how to see if it works. If what she and the ones she loves have spent  _two years_ fighting for has paid off.

Anxiety crawls up her throat like bile. She tries telling herself to calm down, but if this didn’t work, then nothing will, nothing—

She uses the same trick whenever she’s nervous and tries listening to someone’s breathing. But she can’t.

The only breathing she can focus on is her own.

Nancy raises two trembling fingers. She’s done this so many times since 1983, but for the first time, she finds something other than static. She finds for her pulse. 

“You feel it, right?” Jonathan’s grinning and crying with two fingers pressed against his wrist.

The words  _I do_ get lost in her throat. She suddenly needs to hear his breathing, needs her arms around him, needs to get to Hawkins. She can only do two of those things right now, so she jumps into Jonathan’s arms.

Multiple arms wrap around her. Mike’s curls tickle her neck. Will’s laughter fills her ears. Jonathan’s hand is warm against hers. The fire crackles, still alive.

.

.

.

“Dial faster!”

“ _I’m dialling!”_

Nancy resists the urge to snatch their burner out of Mike’s hands as he dials Lucas’ number. “You’re killing me.”

Mike, infuriatingly, stops, a sudden smile on his face. “I just thought  _you’re already dead,_ but remembered.”

Her carry-on nearly falls to the floor. “Stop being sweet.” She smiles, elbowing him gently. “Call him, already!”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Will—”

“Mike, you still haven’t called?” Jonathan frowns, walking out of the men’s washroom. He dries his hands on his pants. “Dude.”

Mike throws his hands up and sighs. “You guys are annoying.”

“Jonathan’s never annoying,” Nancy says, looping her arm around his. She breathes in and out. Grins stupidly, unable to help it. “Call.”

“I am!  _Here!_ ” Mike sticks his tongue out as he holds the phone close to his ear.

Downfall number one of being human: she needs to stand on her tiptoes and press her face against Mike’s to hear the phone.

It rings once. 

Twice.

“They wouldn’t disconnect this number,” Jonathan says under his breath, pressed against the other side of Mike’s face. “We told them we would call them.”

“ _Hello?_ ”

Nancy frowns. “Did they change numbers? Who’s that woman?”

Mike grins breathlessly. “Willow?”

_“Mike!?”_

“So Uncle Mike really won’t stick, huh—”

Nancy swats Mike’s chest. “TELL WILLOW WE’RE COMING HOME!”

_“Is that Aunt Nancy?”_

“Willow, what the fuck!?”

“Mike!” Jonathan teases, his face brightening, eyes crinkling with a smile. “Don’t swear. She’s a child.”

_“Twenty-one, actually. Is that Uncle Jonathan?”_

“You haven’t even met him, Willow,” Mike says fondly. His grip on the phone loosens. “Your dads home?”

_“Wait. You’re really coming home?”_

“Yeah,” Mike answers. He drops his duffel bag and uses both hands to hold the phone. “Need a ride. We’re in Indiana, but the airport’s a two hour ride from Hawkin.”

“ _DAD! I need both of you! Stop—it’s important!”_

There’s more yelling. Nancy lowers herself back off of her tiptoes and paces the airport hallway, buzzing with energy. Her heartbeat picks up a little as she walks, rising when Jonathan hugs her from behind.

“You haven’t scared me in … in ever. Holy shit,” she laughs, turning around to kiss him. “You’re breathing.”

He grins against her mouth and kisses her again. “So are you.”

“Two more hours,” she says, on the verge of tears. Her heart’s a mess of feelings that are so bright and big that they’re tangible, making her want to cry and laugh and run until her lungs burn. Her heart’s a mess, but it’s  _beating._ It’s simple. It’s also everything. “And then we’re home.”

Jonathan’s already tearing up. He runs his hands down her back and grins. “Two more hours.”

She’s about to tell him how  _beautiful_ he looks when Mike appears next to them. Breathless, he shoves the phone in between their faces. 

_“NANCY!? JONATHAN!?”_

“Dustin, why are you yelling?” Jonathan’s grin broadens as he takes the phone. “Hey, buddy. It’s been awhile.”

“Are you—”

“Alive? Yes.”

“Like, human-alive?”

“Yup,” Nancy chimes in. “Got a scrape this morning. Zipper was being a little bitch, and it didn’t heal. The best feeling in the world, you know?”

 _“Sure,”_ Lucas responds.  _“But I dunno, this call might top that. You’re all okay? Will, where is he_ — _”_

“You know how he is,” Jonathan says. “Takes forever in the washroom. Always has.”

“Rude.” Will runs towards them and barrels into Jonathan to grab the phone. “Lucas!”

_“WILL!”_

Mike and Will shout over each other on the phone for a few more minutes. Nancy and Jonathan watch them with warmth in their eyes and duffels slung over their backs.

“This was the best flight we’ve had in the past two years,” she tells him, her head resting on his arm. She’s so fucking giddy she can’t breathe. Except she can, which is a miracle in itself. Her mind’s spinning in the best way possible, atoms buzzing with life, with love. 

He hums and slings an arm across her back. “That is undoubtedly true. Though I’m not flying ever again after this.” 

Nancy rolls her eyes fondly. “Really? What if Steve and I want a romantic vacation?”

“I’ll walk.”

“You’ll—” She laughs. “I’ll pay for your ticket.”

“You’ll do no such thing.”

“I’ll feed you chocolate-covered strawberries in Paris.”

Jonathan’s face splits into a grin. “You did that already. Seven months ago.”

She swats his arm lightly. Grins a little at the memory. They had a day to themselves and it was quite possibly the most normal and bizzare thing they had ever done. “I’ll do it again. Maybe Steve’ll do it.”

At the same time, they say, “New kink,” and chuckle. 

Her heart drops. “You think he’s still in Hawkins? Still thinking about us?”

“Definitely,” Jonathan says, voice trembling. “We’re going to see him.”

“We’re going to have our big, romantic reunion.”

“We’re going to run into each other and probably break an arm or two,” Jonathan deadpans.

Nancy laughs. She’s never broken a bone before. Maybe one day she will. She’s not all that opposed to the idea, now that she can actually do it.

.

.

.

After waiting a dreadful hour for their luggage, grabbing coffee, and wandering aimlessly in the stores, Mike grumbles, “Never flying again.” His headrest is still around his shoulders as he rubs his eyes. He got no sleep. Wonder how Nancy knows this? Because he kept reminding her, every half-hour.

“Hey, we’ve never been to Ireland.” Will yawns as he lugs his single suitcase forward. People surround them, everyone moving sluggishly. 

“You want to go to  _Ireland?_ ” Jonathan looks so confused that Nancy can’t help but snort.

“We’re Irish,” Will says.

“No, we aren’t. Why do you think that?” Jonathan nudges Will and smiles, amused. 

They continue walking forward. Nancy’s feet burn. Her luggage is annoyingly heavy and her duffel bag keeps knocking into her suitcase. She switches arms, duffel in one arm, the other arm lugging her suitcase, but then her arms turn sore. She has to keep switching. It’s one of those human things she hasn’t experienced in ages, so her irritation for it turns into half-appreciation, half-this-is-fucking-terrible.

Jonathan offers more than once to carry her things. She, of course, doesn’t accept, still appreciating the offer.

“I’m going to work-out,” she declares. She huffs as her suitcase knocks into Will’s. “Get my arms all thick with muscles. I’m going to lift Steve one day.”

“Kid’s taller than you and Jonathan,” Mike says, amused.

She considers throwing her duffel at Mike. “And?”

Nancy’s heart skips a beat when they finally reach the Arrivals level. She can’t tune in to Lucas and Dustin’s heartbeats, can’t smell them, can’t find them in the midst of all these people.

“Think they have a sign?” Will squints at the crowd.

They move into the crowd, cautiously.

She drops her duffel to the floor. “They’ll probably see us—”

There’s no time to react except to  _scream_ in joy when Lucas runs right into Nancy, swinging her around. She laughs and kind of sobs, flinging her arms around his neck. More shrieks of laughter sound next to her, lots of yelling and repetition of their own names.

She breathes Lucas in and sighs in his shoulder. “Thank you for getting us. A two-hour ride, at this hour, is—”

“No problem.” Lucas grins. He lowers her, but gives her another quick hug. “You look good.”

“So do you.” He looks mostly the same. His hair is greyed, lines of laughter that were already there before running deeper. She resists the urge to pinch his cheeks.

Dustin hugs her next, squeezing her gently. “Missed ya.”

“Missed you more.” 

She’s so exhausted that she doesn’t put up a fight when Dustin wordlessly takes her suitcase. Just shoots him a grateful smile and clings to Jonathan’s arm. 

The kids talk loudly and rapidly to each other. She tunes it out, overwhelmed in the best way by the sight of Dustin and Lucas again, and needing to lay down for awhile.

She doesn’t even realize that it’s the same van until she’s crawled in and her gaze drifts to the stain on the roof. “Same car, huh?”

Jonathan settles next to her. He gapes at the stain. “Did it change colours since?”

“Callie was fussy,” Lucas recalls. He squeezes in next to Will who sits next to Jonathan.

Mike cranes his head from the passenger seat. “She’s in school now, right?”

“I have pictures!” Dustin yells. He turns out of the airport, resulting in Mike having to fish Dustin’s phone out of his pocket.

They huddle together to look at the pictures of Callie. Her first day of school, her with homemade ginger-bread cookies, her grinning with sunglasses. She’s so big.

“You know, she’ll always remember you guys,” Dustin says. “This is the age where she’ll start remembering stuff, so she won’t remember a time without her uncles and aunt.”

Jonathan and Will beam at each other, and so do Nancy and Mike, both for different, but fundamentally the same reasons. 

“How’s Holly?” Nancy asks, perched on the edge of her seat. 

“Still the Chief. Still a terribly sore loser when it comes to Monopoly,” Lucas says. 

And because he and Dustin are perfect, they go on with updates for everyone without being asked.

“Karen and Joyce are kind of living together? Murray’s taken the Byers’ house, but, like, the three of them are tight,” Lucas says.

“Haley’s the head of the English department now. Uhh, El and Max’s been fostering this fifteen year-old for a year now, gonna ask if they can adopt in, wow, two weeks, I think, when the actual  _anniversary_ pops up … they also have a new dog. Exciting times for them.”

“Willow’s still in school, got another year left. Just visiting us for the weekend. And  _we’re_ good, got a new bed, which, dope—”

Mike coughs. “Is this important?”

Dustin makes a face at Mike before switching his gaze back onto the road. “Important to our sex-life, yes. It’s made things so much—”

“I don’t want to hear this,” Jonathan says quietly.

“You think I wanted to hear you and Steve talk about kinks!?”

Nancy stifles a startled laugh. “That was two years ago. Get over it. Speaking of … I mean. How is he?”

She squeezes Jonathan’s hand and holds her breath. On principle, she hates doing it, depriving herself of something so normal, of something she hasn’t had for years, but just  _hearing_ Steve’s name, thinking about him, how they’re a mere hour and a half away from each other, hell, on the same  _continent,_ stirs something in her. The air changes. Her body tenses. Her heart soars.

“Is he, I mean, is he?” Jonathan splutters.

“He is,” Dustin says solemnly.

“Dude!” Mike exclaims. He thwacks Dustin’s arm. The car swerves slightly, Dustin cursing, no one else caring, all waiting for Dustin to respond.

“You’re such a dick,” Lucas says. He shakes his head with a slight smile. “Kid’s good. Still obsessed with you two. Somehow taller. Less Axe.”

“Thank God.” Tears blur her vision. She cannot cry, not when she’s still in the van, driving back to Hawkins, so she kisses Jonathan. “Two years is nothing.”

His cheeks get wet from her tears, anyway. “Nothing at all.” He nuzzles her face, prompting her to laugh and lean closer to him.

“We’re finally home,” Will says.

Lucas cheers. Mike turns the radio on, cranks some pop station that absolutely  _no one_ recognizes, but the boys try singing to it, anyway. Dustin rolls everyone’s windows down. 

With the wind in her hair, her head pressed against Jonathan’s chest to listen to his heartbeat, part of her huge family making up lyrics to the radio, Nancy can breathe with ease.

Half an hour later, she’s sleeping soundly. But Jonathan stirs next to her and speaks, his voice warm and scratchy, tugging at her heartstrings, “Look, Nancy.”

She wakes up with the sun. An orange glow hits her eyes and she blinks, sitting up to meet everyone’s gaze. 

 _Welcome to Hawkins!_ The sign is exactly the same.

Her breath catches. She touches the window, dragging a finger down as Dustin slows the van, giving her, Will, Jonathan, and Mike a chance to soak it in.

“We’re home,” she says. 

The kids cheer some more. Jonathan even woos. Nancy cheers out the window, until her voice goes hoarse, and grins with everyone else as they drive home.

.

.

.

“Steve’s house is closest,” Dustin says. “D’ya wanna stop there?”

Her heart hammers violently in her chest. “I don’t—do we? Where are our moms, what’re they—”

“We can bring him with us,” Lucas says gently. “It’ll be shorter this way, anyway. Also, I really want you to see his hair.”

“He grew it out?” Mike grins. He runs a hand through his own, floppy hair. “Shit, mom’s going to be so pissed that I didn’t cut my hair.”

“Yeah, she is,” Nancy agrees. She pushes herself to the edge of her seat to mess up Mike’s hair. He doesn’t even complain, just grins and leaves it as the mess it is, until Will fixes it.

“Call him? Is he up by now? Is he in school? Is he—”

“Nancy,” Lucas interrupts. “He’s got an eight am class, so yeah, he is. He’s in school. He’s good, okay? We’re taking care of him. I promise. Everything’s finally okay.”

She leans back into the seat. “Sorry. I’m just— _two whole years._ ”

“No need to be sorry,” Will says. He claps Jonathan’s shoulder. The brothers share a tired smile. “Be as excited, nervous, pissed off as you want. It’s your life now. Do whatever you want with it.”

Lucas announces he’ll just text Steve to be ready in five. “Can we surprise him?”

“We’ll be surprising everyone else, so—”

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ANYONE ELSE!?” Nancy and Jonathan shriek.

Mike throws Dustin an irritated look, while Will raises his eyebrows and stares at Lucas.

“We had no time!” Dustin yells. “We had to clean the house!”

“Clean the— _why!?_ ” Will rubs his forehead and sighs. 

“In our defence,” Lucas says slowly, raising a finger. “You called us right when you landed. We wanted to get to the airport as soon as possible.”

No one speaks.

“See,” Dustin says, a little smug as he drives past Don’s. “We have our reasons.”

“Yeah, yeah, we love you, you’re the best,” Will says, aiming for sarcastic, but grinning too widely for it to work. He yawns and covers his mouth. “Town looks the same. Don’t think it’ll ever change.”

“I always wanted to get out of here.” Nancy gazes out the window, watching the familiar sidewalks and streets with ease. “Can’t believe I got here, to the point where I’ve literally been to Rome, Singapore, Paris, and this is the stupid place I want to be most.”

“Home’s not really a place though, is it?” Jonathan says softly. 

Nancy looks at Dustin’s hands on the steering wheel, Mike’s long curls, Will’s facial scar, and the crinkle in Jonathan’s eyes as he smiles at her. “Suppose so.”

.

.

.

“What’s taking him so long?” Dustin says, glaring up at the third floor of Steve’s house.

“He probably can’t hear the doorbell from the twentieth floor of this house,” Nancy says, almost automatically, watching Dustin ring the doorbell again.

Jonathan laughs shakily. His leg keeps bouncing up and down as the pair stare out the window.

“Um.” Mike scratches the back of his neck. “Are you guys going to get out? No rush! Actually, a little bit of a rush. I can't feel my legs.”

“I need to use the washroom,” Will adds.

“Why didn't you use the washroom two hours ago?” Lucas says.

“I didn't have to  _go_ two hours ago!” 

Their banter provides a brief, cherished distraction from the pounding in her chest.

“You're not getting up,” Jonathan says. His hand covers her knee. 

“Neither are you. Why are we afraid? What are we waiting for?”

He shrugs, looking out of the window again. “It’s been years. Maybe his feelings have changed. Maybe he's seeing someone. Maybe—”

“Maybe,” Lucas says, clearing his throat, “He’s single and doesn't stop asking us about you, ever, as if you’d call us and not him. Lots of things have changed, but not this.”

Nancy and Jonathan get up at the same time. Slowly, but still moving forward, one foot in front of the other. Will, Mike, and Lucas exit the car with them.

“We should’ve brought flowers.” Jonathan rearranges his hair, gulping as he steps forward.

Nancy readjusts his hair back to how it was, mostly to keep from messing her own hair up. “We brought us. That’s the best gift he's getting.”

“I have keychains from Tokyo,” Will pipes up. “If he’d want.”

Nancy rings the doorbell, now going off for the third time, as Jonathan says, “Maybe later. He’d definitely love it. Thanks!”

It takes a few minutes. She hasn't forgotten how fucking  _huge_ his house is. 

“I told you, Dustin, you didn’t leave your cat sweater—” The door swings open. She’s pretty sure they all stop breathing. It catches her by surprise, mostly because she half-expected to hear his footsteps and breathing. The other half, well—

He doesn’t look that much older. His hair is longer, floppy, with strands falling in his face. He pushes a pair of glasses up his nose, pink lips opening. No sound escapes him. His hands tug at his black-shirt, a  _Clash_ shirt that looks all-too familiar. The other hand grips a red mug that might be chamomile tea, but she can’t tell. She can’t tell anything, really, because Steve is a foot away from them, and her heart is pounding so loudly that it rings in her ears.

“You got glasses,” Jonathan says slowly. 

“You got a heart that works?” 

Steve’s not joking, but she laughs anyway and just. Runs right into him. The mug doesn’t spill, thankfully, but then she realizes Jonathan grabbed it from Steve’s hands. He sets it on the floor and runs into him a second later.

They move towards each other so quickly it would hurt if she hadn't ached for this exact moment for years.

He lets out a startled sound, but doesn’t fall over. Nancy and Jonathan bury their heads into opposite sides of his neck. Their hands meeting at the small of his back. His arms are steady and solid around them, hugging them close. “Did it—did it  _work_ —”

“Yeah,” she exhales. Her arms tighten around him. 

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy—” His voice quiets when Nancy cups his jaw, pressing her forehead against his. “Nance.” It’s soft. Barely audible. Just about the best thing she’s heard in her life.

“We missed you,” she whispers, “And thought about you, everyday, all the time.”

Jonathan nods, his eyes watering. “We didn't think it’d take so long, I’m—”

“Don't apologize.” Steve’s hands shift, one on Jonathan's cheek, the other on Nancy’s. He looks between them rapidly, no doubt not knowing who to kiss first. To help him with that choice, Nancy elbows Jonathan. Jonathan, with his cheeks flushed, leans forward and they kiss, messy and passionate and slow.

She just presses her lips to Steve’s pulse. They’re as close as they can be, elbows and legs bumping into one another, but it’s not enough.

Jonathan pulls back. His arm wraps around Nancy and Steve, holding them like he doesn’t plan on letting go.

“You came back to me,” Steve says. “You came back.”

She nuzzles his neck and laughs, “Told you.”

She doesn't know how long they stand in his doorway. She slides a finger underneath Jonathan's ear, then does the same to Steve.

“Are you touching our pulses?” Jonathan asks. He fixes her a confused, but amused look, his eyes warming.

“It’s not weird.”

Steve rests his chin on the top of her head. “Neither of us said it was.” He meets Jonathan’s eyes and the two bend down to give her a better read, prompting another laugh out of her.

She’s going to spend the rest of her life with them. Their weird, human life where she routinely touches their pulses, and Jonathan drinks all their juice-boxes, and Steve will call them grandma and grandpa despite him looking slightly older than them now.

“Let’s go back to my mom’s?” She says sometime later. “We need to see ’em too.”

“Wait, is that Mike!? Will! Oh my—” Steve sprints towards Mike and envelops him in a bone-crushing hug. 

Mike pretends to look irritated for a millisecond. He gives up, hugging Steve back, and smiling into Steve’s shoulder. “Hey, kid.”

She considers making a teasing comment about how Steve prefers her brother to her, but ultimately decides not to. She loves it, honestly. 

“It’s nice, right?” Jonathan murmurs next to her.

They slowly make their way across the front-lawn right as Will is pulled into the hug. Dustin and Lucas laugh, leaning against the van.

“It is.” She grabs his hand, making a pleased noise when their scars line up. “Ready to see the rest of our family?”

He swings their hands back and forth. “You know it.”

.

.

.

Nancy’s always thought the warmest thing in the world was your mother’s arms.

Snug between Karen and Joyce, she, like always, is proven right.

“You look so well,” Jonathan babbles into Joyce’s hair, his arms looped around her and Karen. “Both of you. Are you eating well? How’s your blood pressure? How—”

“You’re worse than Holly,” Karen teases. She presses her face against Nancy’s. “We’re good. I promise you. We have our kids back.”

Will sniffs. Nancy thinks he’s somewhere in between Joyce and Mike. “Home for good now. Promise.”

This should be uncomfortable. All five of them, pressed together, arms blindly wrapping around waists. It should be, but it’s not.

Lucas and Dustin return seven minutes later. They hear Murray before they see him.

“It’s barely eight o’clock, I’m too old to be woken up, so unless someone broke a hip or I—holy shit!” 

“Holy shit,” Nancy echoes. “You’re using your cane?”

“He even got a new one,” Jonathan adds.

“He got new glasses.” Will’s smile sounds in his voice.

“How does he have the same amount of hair?” Mike pulls away from Karen’s arms, his hand still on her back. 

“It’s like completely white,” Steve remarks. “Bad-ass, right?”

Murray waves his cane. He grunts. “Two years and this is what I get? Two years of worrying about  _your_ idiotic asses—”

“Just say you missed us.” Jonathan is the first to walk to the other side of the kitchen and draw him into a hug. “‘Cuz we missed you too.”

She tests how long she can last without following Jonathan and hugging Murray. She lasts six seconds.

“A universe without you children is a strange one,” Murray says.

Nancy gently tugs on the ends of his cardigan. “Lucky for you that’s over now.”

Ten minutes later, after they’re seated around the kitchen table, cups of chamomile tea between them, the door bursts open.

“Where are they?”

“She did not need to kick the door down,” Karen says under her breath. 

“She totally did,” Steve says, smiling when Nancy foots him underneath the table. “IN HERE!”

She jumps to her feet. Mike hurries next to her. They turn the corner, about to enter the hallway, and run right into Holly.

“You ass—oh my God! You’re here! Both of you!”

So everyone’s heads sting, but they hug each other, crying with bone-crushing grips. “You cut your hair,” Nancy says, running her fingers through Holly’s shoulder-length hair.

Holly yanks on Mike’s hair. “You didn’t cut yours.”

Mike smirks. “Does it annoy you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Holly’s not wearing her Chief’s uniform. She looks comfortable, cozy. “Day off?” Nancy gestures to Holly’s clothing.

She shakes her head. “Going in to the station later. Shift starts at noon. But not today, I guess. What? It’s an exception. My siblings are home.”

Someone sobs from behind them. The Wheeler children whirl around to find their mother, watching them with a smile. “My kids,” is all she says, and then they’re all hugging.

She’s done this about a million times today. She could do it another million times again.

.

.

.

They lay in the living room. It’s so warm, filled with laughter and stories and her continuing to touch Steve’s hair and Jonathan’s hand, that it brings her back to two years ago. The two years sit heavy in her heart, not quite nothing, but not the tragedy it felt like when they embarked on their trip.

“You hit the werewolf with a  _stick?_ ” Jane repeats disbelievingly. She and Max arrived fifteen minutes after Murray did. It took minutes of screaming and jumping up and down from everyone’s parts to get them back into the kitchen for their tea. 

Will nods. He looks down to grin at Mike, who’s head lays on his lap. “It worked! Jonathan did it first. Gawk at him.”

Jonathan pshaws. “Genius idea. All Nancy’s.”

“Jonathan and I tried it once before, and it’s shockingly effective.” She’s the most comfortable she’s ever been. After the kids complained that they smelled terrible, she showered, washed her hair, and changed into a pair of pyjamas that she hasn’t seen or worn in two years. Right now, she’s braiding Steve’s hair while Jonathan braids Callie’s. Everyone else is scattered on the first floor. She can hear Jane ordering takeout, Max and Lucas speaking over each other to tell her what to say. For the first time, she can’t make out the rest.

“Is it supposed to look like this?” Jonathan shifts on his knees. “Am I hurting you?”

“Nope,” Callie says. She fidgets with the Rubix cube in her hands. “You’re married to Aunt Nancy?”

Nancy’s fingers still in Steve’s hair. She can’t stop smiling. “Sure.”

“But what about Steve?” Callie continues. She looks up from her toy and points at Steve. “Are you married to him?”

“Yes,” she says. “I’ve got both of them.”

Callie stands up sharply. Jonathan yelps and nearly falls backwards, tugging a smile from Nancy. “You get  _two!?_ ”

Steve grins. “I get two, too.”

Callie gasps. “Can I get two?”

“If you want,” Jonathan says. He sets the brush onto the floor. “But that’s a later problem. The only thing you should focus on now is if you want a blue or pink hair-clip.”

“I want … a unicorn.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I don’t think I can get that for you.”

It’s a nice night. Callie is more talkative than Holly was at four and doesn’t shy away from her, Jonathan, Will, or Mike. There are stories, more than she can count, about good things, great things, inconvenient things, but never  _bad_ things. They finish all the takeout, then order more. 

The house booms with life. The laughter is infectious; Nancy catches herself laughing at stories where she doesn’t quite get the punchline. Her cheeks hurt from it. 

At some point, she has to step outside. Just to exist on her own for a second. She slips out of the kitchen, still in her pyjamas, and steps onto the front porch. 

The sun is setting, a beautiful mess of orange and pink. She looks up and inexplicably thinks of Barb. “I’ll make it count,” she says, thinking of red hair and round glasses. “But you had a good run, didn’t you? You did great. And I think I did alright.”

No one responds, obviously. No one responds, but Nancy’s made her peace with it, and is confident that someday, somewhere else, she won’t have to be talking to the sky to say the same thing.

“Hey.”

Nancy’s heartbeat picks up, but settles as soon as she sees Jonathan and Steve stepping out of the front door. Steve slides the door shut behind him.

“Just needed a second.” She leans against the railing. “Second’s up, though. I’d love some company.”

They sit on the front steps. Jonathan passes Nancy a juice-box. Fruit punch. She snorts. “I think all of your blood-cravings have been projected onto fruit punch.”

Jonathan crumples his  _fourth_ juice-box of the day. “I’m fine with that.” 

Steve slings an arm over their shoulders. “I’ll buy you as many juice-boxes as you want.” He takes the empty box from Jonathan, covering his hand with his own.

Nancy smiles at the sight. She kisses Steve’s cheek, breath ghosting his skin as she teases, “And me?”

“What d’ya want, Nance?” 

“You and me, on a run tomorrow.”

He smiles, looking dazed. “Deal.” He looks at her, then at Jonathan, biting his lip.

Nancy and Jonathan raise their eyebrows at each other. “What?” Nancy says finally.

“Just … I mean, I know you  _just_ got back, but what’s the plan now? Where do you go? Where do we go?”

“We could travel,” Nancy suggests. “Actually, nevermind, not taking a plane for at least another year.”

Steve elbows Jonathan. “Take a lotta good pictures?”

“Just a couple,” Jonathan says.

“Hundred,” she says under her breath. “They’re all really good. If you wanted to go back to school at some point, that’s an option. One you should definitely take.”

Jonathan looks into the sky. His lips curve upwards, just barely. “That’d be nice. You too. I mean, law. Two things we always wanted to do.”

Light fills her chest. “Yeah.” 

There’s a whole lot of shit to deal with moving forward. Holly and Will both have connections to help them get the documents they need. She would like to get a degree, have her own garden, do stupid things like have a mortgage one day and get older than seventeen. She has siblings to make fun of and take awkward family photos with. She has a niece to get to know and watch grow up. She has family dinners and game-nights with all the kids, breakfast with Karen, tea with Joyce, true crime documentaries with Murray. 

She has a life to live with Jonathan and Steve.

She has her life to live, to create.

She has this.

“You’re not worried, are you?” Jonathan’s mostly teasing. He presses a long, tender kiss to Steve’s forehead. “We’ll figure it out.”

Steve loosens. His smile is small, but lights up his face. “I love you guys. I just—I can’t wait for tomorrow and everyday after this. I’m really excited.” 

“Us too. I don’t know what tomorrow will look like, what we’ll do, but don’t worry,” she says to both of them. She laces her fingers with Steve, then Jonathan. 

She’s seventeen with years laid out in front of her. For the first time in forever, it isn’t daunting or empty. It’s promising. She’s helped people with a still heart. She wonders just how much she can do with one that beats.

She’s suddenly filled with all of the things she wants to say. She wants to tell her mother that she’s not leaving, never again. Tell Mike that she loves him and knows he loves her. Tell Holly that they’re going to have dozens of inside-jokes and recognize each other’s footsteps. Tell Joyce that nothing bad is going to happen to her family, ever again. Tell Will that they’ll figure this life thing out together. Tell Lucas, Jane, Max, and Dustin that they’re shit-heads, and it’s okay, because that’s what older sisters say to their younger siblings. Tell Murray that he’s a bastard who is not allowed to die anytime soon.

She looks at Jonathan.  _You’re what kept me human all these years_. Looks at Steve.  _You are quite literally why we’re alive._

She squeezes both of their hands.  _I love you,_ she wants to say. She doesn’t, because—

Nancy smiles. She listens to her breathing. Her pulse is steady and strong. “We have the time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is the longest piece of writing i've ever done, the first, real multi-chap fic that i've finished, and the most challenging and rewarding project i've done. thank you so much for reading this fic about vampires that is somehow the softest and most emotional thing i've ever written. this idea was originally supposed to be a one-shot from jonathan's POV that did not include any of the kids/parents, but i'm so glad it spawned into this. and that i finished before season 3 came out! i love these 3 with my entire heart and this entire universe to pieces. being in nancy's head has been so much fun, and giving her the happy ending she deserves makes me unbelievably happy.
> 
> i've appreciated every kudo and comment greatly. i hope you enjoyed this ride as much as i did.  
> if you liked this fic, you can reblog [the photoset](https://trulyalpha.tumblr.com/post/185912064161/we-have-the-time-while-trying-to-find-barb-and) and check out an [unbelievably long playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/user/fulfillling/playlist/35gbjc9A2GnkN4M5HYxVDc?si=dwsjE8ccQreb0bOohLR32Q)that i made for it.
> 
> and lastly, [come say hi on tumblr! ](https://trulyalpha.tumblr.com)ONE MORE WEEK TIL S3, Y'ALL. freak out with me. 
> 
> i love y'all. until the next one.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [my peace has always depended (on all the ashes in my wake)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806937) by [aletterinthenameofsanity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aletterinthenameofsanity/pseuds/aletterinthenameofsanity)




End file.
